


True Blood

by SonicoSenpai



Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Amnesia, Angst, Blood Drinking, Catboys, Dreams, Fang Rape, Fluff and Smut, Konoe is fae, M/M, Memory Loss, No Aftercare, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Psychological Horror, Rai is a vampire, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Swing, Sexual Fantasy, True Blood References, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Vampires and Fairies, Weird medical stuff, disturbing sex, non-con turned dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2020-12-25 00:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 54,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21108326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: The real reason I wanted to finish the Kinktober prompts was so I could post this new work. I recently re-watched the season of True Blood in which Eric loses his memory, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.In this AU, Konoe works at Bardo's restaurant and bar and meets his first vampire, Rai. It's ridiculous and angsty.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time I laid eyes the vampire I knew he would be trouble. I didn’t know how much trouble, but I had a feeling in my gut.

He’s a gorgeous cat—originally from Setsura, the village where a tall, muscular breed of cats train as fighters. But he’s an ancient vampire now—still maintained perfectly in the prime of his youth—silver hair, long white fur, pale blue eyes, and pale skin that hasn’t seen the sun in centuries.

I heard he is a thousand years old. He is also wealthy—and the owner of the bar in Ransen called Fangtasia. Since vampires have come out of their coffins—thanks in part to an artificial blood drink called True Blood—attacks on the Ribika population as a whole are rare. It's bad publicity, of course, for vampires to attack the general population. However, it is apparently arousing to have your blood sucked by one of these creatures—and I’ve heard sex is pretty good, too. So Fangtasia is a place where these Ribikan “fang-bangers” go for such illicit activities. (I should clarify that it is perfectly legal for two consenting adults to have sex and exchange blood.)

The bar where I work is owned by an older tiger-striped cat named Bardo. I’m his best server, and I make good money in tips when I’m in a good mood. Even our Ribika customers are a little handsy after a few drinks—and Bardo’s serves the best around, including rare and potent catnip liquor. I work hard for my money—having learned to keep my body out of the way of the drunk clientele.

One thing that is unique about me is that I can hear the thoughts and desires of cats when I don’t make specific efforts to keep them out, and even sometimes when I do make efforts to close them off. Since I was a child, I have been able to read the thoughts of others. In fact, I didn't realize till I turned sixteen two years ago that not every cat has this ability. I've never met another person who has this gift. It makes conversations difficult and dating even harder since I can see the filthy thoughts of the cats sitting across the table from me. My life is noisy at the bar, even when I make efforts not to listen in to others’ thoughts. And my reputation for having the uncanny ability to read minds is unnerving and strange to others. However, even that hasn’t diminished my date-ability. I am still propositioned regularly, and I almost always refuse after several horrible experiences.

The first time the silver cat walks into the bar, every eye turns to look at him.

All-white cats are rare, but he is even more special—his body is in perfect, toned condition and those pale blue eyes capture everyone. I knew what he was right away—I knew he _had_ to be a vampire. I feel attraction to him, but I don't get closer to these supernatural creatures than is absolutely necessary. It isn't because I'm prejudiced, though. I think they have a right to exist as much as anyone else. And if they can find consenting partners, they don't have to stick to artificial blood, as far as I'm concerned. I'm just hesitant because I find them slightly frightening.

One strange thing, though—seeing one in the flesh makes me realize I can't hear his thoughts. Even when he meets my gaze directly, by all rights I should hear what he is thinking, and I hear nothing. Maybe because he isn’t a living creature? When I meet his gaze, it’s a heavy, relaxing silence—and it’s wonderful. In fact, it even feels comforting, like his presence blocks out other intrusive thoughts. I walk up to him while our eyes meet.

“Good evening, sir. We serve True Blood here. We just got our first stock. May I show you to a booth?”

“Please. I’d be delighted to sit in your section.”

I smile, stiffening slightly and keeping my tail close to my body—but he doesn’t touch me. It’s nice being close to him, I have to confess. He smells nice—_really_ nice—and the silence is intoxicating.

“Can I bring you a bottle of True Blood?”

“O-negative, please.”

“Warmed?”

“Thank you.” I notice he is leaning across the table, and I see his nose twitch. But his fangs don’t show. He looks like a normal—if ridiculously handsome—cat.

That first evening, he spends the rest of the night sipping his True Blood (and not really enjoying it, in my opinion) while watching me. He did introduce himself—as Rai—and he obviously picked up my name from my name tag. He kept to himself for the most part, and I’m not sure anyone else in the bar knew he was a vampire unless they happened to notice his drink.

Then he comes in again two days later. I don’t see him enter this time, but he asks another server to sit in my section. I’m surprised to see him again, and he's just as fascinatingly handsome as he was last time.

“Welcome back. A bottle of O-negative?”

“Please. And… have you already taken your break?”

My ears flatten slightly, tilting back on my head.

“I won’t do anything to you. You don’t need to be afraid. I just wanted to talk.”

“Um, I haven’t. I’ll see when I can take it.” I am somewhat hesitant—because while fang rape is rare, it isn’t as though it _never_ happens. I have heard that vampires have the ability to “glamor” their prey into submission, even if they are resisting. They can hypnotize them by looking in their eyes, and the prospect of getting my blood drained isn’t an attractive idea to me. But we are in a public place—and he’s perfectly good looking—so perhaps I will take my break with him. I should be perfectly safe here.

In about half an hour—I grab a sandwich from the back and bring it to his table. I take the seat across from him, and he meets my gaze instantly. His pale blue eyes are framed with lush, silver lashes—long and gorgeous—and I notice his tail bristles behind him in the booth, swaying hypnotically back and forth.

He is nice to look at. And it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders—sitting here with him. I don’t hear anyone else’s thoughts when I’m this close to him. It’s a strange, relaxing sensation. Is this how normal cats feel every day? I _envy_ them.

“Does the old man pay you well?”

“The base wage is fine, but I make excellent tips.”

“You know, I own a bar in Ransen. I’ve been looking to hire some cats as bartenders, servers, and dancers. I think you fit the bill perfectly.”

_Dancers_? What the hell kind of place is this?

“Fangtasia?” I ask.

He nods.

“You are the owner?”

“Of course. I won’t work for anyone else.”

“Um, thank you for the offer, but I think I’m all right here.”

“I could guarantee to double your base salary, and you’d get amazing tips. Probably four times what you make here.”

I perk up my ears but then relax.

“It’s _hazard_ pay, isn’t it?”

The silver cat’s face softens into a smile, and he chuckles softly.

“Oh, nothing would happen to you if you were _my_ employee.”

“Don’t other vampires come into your bar? I’d be setting myself up for an attack.”

“I’m the sheriff around here. Vampires have to follow my orders, simply because I’m the oldest and strongest in the area. They’d do what I asked. You’d be well-protected.”

“I still don’t know if it’s worth the risk,” I reply.

“You know,” his voice lowers to a sexy, sultry murmur, “there are cats who believe blood exchange with a vampire is the closest thing to heaven—aside from having sex with one.”

I’m shocked to hear these words out of his mouth. He barely knows me! I don’t want to judge, but I’m a little appalled when the word “sex” comes out at the table. I’m no prude, but I am, in fact, still a virgin. Simply because I have never been able to stomach any other cat I’ve dated after hearing his or her thoughts about me. I find I'm terribly flustered and try to hide it.

“_Please_. Let those cats enjoy it. I don’t judge, but that’s _not_ my cup of tea.”

“Oh? How do you know? If you’ve never tried it?” His hand slides across the table and grabs mine. His hands are bigger than mine—slender fingers, but powerful and slightly intimidating. “In fact, I’ve heard that the older the vampire, the more satisfying the experience. And I’ve never had any complaints.”

“How old are you?” I ask, trying to change the subject. I don't want to think about this particular vampire fucking _anyone_. Even his voice is sexy—and I feel heat and blood pooling in my groin, despite my fear or maybe _because_ of it. But I’m sure this is just a physiological response to having such a handsome cat pay me any attention at all.

“I’ve been around for a thousand years. That’s a lot of time to hone my skills… in the bedroom.”

“Are you making an offer?”

He smiles, and his face softens and eyes sparkle.

“If I were?”

“I’d be flattered by your attention, but I would have to decline.”

“Too scared?” He is smirking at me, teasing me.

“No!” I retort.

“Well, perhaps you _should_ be, just a little. It’s what makes it exciting, after all.”

Even those words sound incredibly dirty to me. And it’s messing with my appetite. I can’t seem to eat when he’s talking like that—and when my body responds, even against my will, it’s embarrassing. I want to get up and walk away, but I’m sure he’d be able to see my unwanted erection.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the conversation to something courteous and not so nasty while I’m on break and trying to eat my dinner.”

“After your break I’m free to continue?”

“No. It’s nasty!”

“Kitten, there’s nothing nasty about making love.” He peers down at me with clear blue eyes, examining me. It feels like he knows I'm a virgin and I don't like it. It's intrusive!

“Please!” I beg, looking down and feeling my ears fill with blood. I am concentrating on the plate in front of me—my half-sandwich waiting to be eaten.

“Aww. Your ears blush so sweetly. You are adorable. I know you’d be a great employee. And you’d be under my protection. I’m not sure you realize, but you have a special scent about you.”

I flick my gaze up to meet his face. Do I stink? I smell my shirt—and I don’t smell anything. He smiles again—this time showing his fangs. They are longer and sharper than a normal cat. It’s both frightening and weirdly arousing to see them peeking over his plush lips.

“It’s not bad. In fact, I find it incredibly _enticing_. I’ve never smelled another cat quite like you—you smell of sunshine on a hot summer day.”

“Sunshine has a scent?” I ask dubiously. I’m slightly worried that he can smell me from where he is sitting. I see his nostrils twitch and his ears are fluffy.

“It’s like wheat drying in the sun, mixed with a little honey. It’s sweet and delicious. It’s almost… _magical_.”

I shiver a little—it’s definitely a compliment—but I don’t know what to do with it.

“I have to get back to work.” It's really my only option. I can't stay here.

“I’d give you all the breaks you wanted if you worked for me. _And_ you’d be under my protection.”

That isn’t the first time he’s brought up his “protection.” I feel my fur bristling.

“Thank you for the generous offer, but I’m _fine_. I don’t need your _protection_.”

“Perhaps not _yet_ anyway. But I’m sure you will get more of my kind in here and once they catch a whiff of your scent, they won’t leave you alone.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” I say, standing up and grabbing my dishes.

“You didn’t finish your sandwich.”

“I’m full,” I say, slightly annoyed and pouty, and I stalk away from the table.

“You know he’s a vampire, don’t you?” Bardo asks when I return my dishes to the kitchen. “And you didn’t finish your dinner. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reply. I don’t want to talk about it.

“Is he bothering you? Harassing you? I can ask him to leave.”

“No, it’s fine. I think he’s just flirting.”

“Really?”

“He offered me a job. Says he can pay me four times what you are and I’d make great tips.”

“Doing _what_ exactly?” Bardo sounds more than suspicious.

“Well, he said as a bartender or server…”

“Or a _dancer_? Konoe, you’d be a blood bag—you’d be on the menu there! Don’t do it.”

“I know!” I snap. “I wouldn’t ever go there. It’s dangerous. That scene does not float my boat.”

Even as the words come out of my mouth, the moment I walked away from the table, all these cats’ thoughts come flowing into my heart and my mind again. It feels so good to just have some quiet every once in a while. But not good enough to risk spending time alone with a thousand-year-old flirty vampire who looks good enough to eat. It's too tempting.

“Just stay away from him. He’s dangerous.”

“Do you know him?” I ask, but Bardo turns back to the stove, and he doesn’t reply, I assume because the sizzling from the pan in front of him is too loud. I put my apron back on, wash my hands, and get back to work.

From that evening on, Rai makes an appearance every couple of days, always sitting in my section and flirting with me. But I don’t take my break at his table again. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea or lead him on. That's dangerous.

One time, however, he corners me in the hallway as I am coming back from the restroom, pinning me up against the wall. Being so close to him again… my nose is flooded with his scent—fresh spring rain and something else—and my mind and heart get muffled and silent—like a soft blanket has been protectively wrapped around me. It’s an awfully _good_ feeling—one I might describe as irresistible if I weren’t quite so intimidated.

“Have you given my job offer any additional consideration?”

“I have, and I’m fine right where I am,” I reply, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“Then perhaps you’d consider dinner?”

“What—you _taking_ me to dinner or me _being_ your dinner?”

Rai smiles again, showing off his pearly white fangs. It makes me shiver to think of those piercing my skin anywhere. I feel like prey before him—and I wish I could say I hated the feeling, but I don’t. It’s weirdly enticing, and I feel my body respond.

“I’m open to either or both.”

“No, thank you. I already told you that isn’t my scene.”

“I remember. But I think I mentioned I don’t quite believe you. I don’t think you can make that decision without having a _little_ experience first.”

“Well, it’s _my_ decision!” I raise my voice—and it’s loud enough for Bardo to poke his head around the kitchen door.

“Oy! Konoe—are you all right? Let go of him!”

Rai lifts up both hands and backs off a step.

“Relax. I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You’re welcome to eat here, just like anyone else. But I have to ask you to refrain from harassing my staff.”

“Harassing?” Rai says. “Wow. So…” he lowers his voice again, making it audible for me alone, “really, the reason you won’t work for me or go out with me is that your _boss_ has the hots for you? Are you two an item? I don’t smell the old man on you.”

“No! And it’s none of your business!” I stalk away from him, angry at the insinuation I'd fuck my boss and that he's thinking about it enough to try to smell other cats on me, leaving both the vampire and my boss in a huff.

Even after my rejection, Rai still shows up every few days—as though to check on me. And he was right. I have gained a few more vampire admirers in the past weeks, regulars who come to the bar, sipping their True Bloods, watching me, making unwanted advances. And weirdly, they all have somewhat of the same emotion/thought muting ability that I felt around Rai, though not quite as strong.

“I told you. Your scent is irresistible to my kind.”

I frown at him.

“If you became _mine_, I could protect you. If they knew you belonged to me, they’d never dare touch you.”

“Become _yours_?! I don’t belong to anybody, and I _never_ will!”

“I like your guts. It suits you—especially as vulnerable as you are. It's cute.” Rai is undeterred and smiling, still flirting like crazy. I’m furious that he treats me so lightly.

In retrospect, I should have realized what would happen. It’s easy for me to say that now—but I _really_ should have seen it coming.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally posted in the Kinktober 2019 piece under the Supernatual Sex prompt. It's written from Vampire Rai's POV.
> 
> Please note this is very non-con (well, non-con sex is rape). Reader beware!

Sunshine, wheat, and honey. It’s been a thousand years since I’ve seen the sunshine, and this kitten radiates it from his scent alone. 

I’ve been watching him for several weeks—he’s a server at Bardo’s inn, which gets pretty divey on the weekends. He handles himself well, is friendly to my kind, though he has refused many requests for dates. Plus, he’s really cute. I've noticed that with Ribika, they are either smart or cute, never both. This kitten falls into the latter category with his sweet airheaded aura. But I'm not interested in his brain, so it doesn't matter to me.

But that _scent_ of his is what I find so tempting. In all my years as a vampire, I have never smelled a cat who smells as enticing. It's almost like a magical power, that attraction he has. After making several direct offers to him—inviting him to work at Fangtasia and to dinner, both of which he has graciously declined—I’ve reached the limit of my patience.

I know he’s working tonight—this is Friday, after all. But I haven’t been watching him at work tonight. I know his way home—I actually discovered it by scent—and I am going to ambush him, glamor him into inviting me inside, make him submit his adorable little body to me, and drink his blood.

Even _I_ know it’s not a good idea to drain a victim completely in these times. Frankly, it's bad press for our kind to leave bodies in the wake of our coming out. Plus, this kitten smells delicious enough so that I wouldn’t consider doing that. I want to make him mine and mine _alone_, using him whenever I like_._ With that scent, he is a magnet for my kind. I have seen several regular vampires at the bar stalking him, following him, chasing after him, to my irritation.

But I’m the sheriff of the vampires in Ransen. I neither pine nor wait patiently. I take what I want. I have for a thousand years. And that kitten—his name is Konoe—is at the top of my list. I know he will be tired tonight—he comes home exhausted, I notice, and his observation skills really decline when he walks home. He feels safe on this route. And it might be my imagination, but he doesn’t seem to see well in the dark, which is an odd trait for Ribika, and he gets lost easily if he ever diverts from his usual route. A cat without a sense of direction? It's even rarer.

My timing is impeccable and of course, he doesn’t notice me watching him. He’s passing the corner of the woods outside his house—a thick forest of ancient trees—which is where I’m planning to steal him away.

Of course, my presence surprises him. All that gorgeous, plush white fur tipped with caramel fluffs out—and my ancient instincts as a cat are tickled when I see it. I have the desire to groom that fluffiness. His golden pupils dilate wide, and no blonde cat I have ever seen has eyelashes so long and dark and lush.

He makes a surprised sound—I probably push it from his lungs—when I grab his shoulders and drag him deep into the woods.

Vampires can move much faster than Ribika—fast enough so that their eyes can’t follow. So when he glances up at my eyes, he’s completely disoriented and has no idea where he is or how he got here. I have his back pushed up against a tree, standing at least a head taller than him—and I’m delighted at how soft and pliant his small body feels against me. He smells even more fragrant up close and my mouth waters.

“Konoe, look at me. Tonight you are going to submit yourself to every one of my whims,” I meet his gaze with the full power of my ability to hypnotize (or glamor, as we call it), and he blinks suddenly.

The blinking is a surprise to me. Usually, my prey doesn’t get a chance to blink and they give themselves over in an instant. I’m even more surprised when he opens his mouth, wearing a flirty little smirk.

“Your _whims_? Rai, have you been waiting for me? Are you stalking me? I think I already refused your advances—I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but vampires are just not my cup of tea.”

My ears bristle. I’m unsure if my glamoring ability has perhaps not worked, so I try again. When was the last time I failed to glamor my prey? I can't remember. I’ve never met a cat who is immune to my hypnotism. I take his chin gently in hand and have him meet my pale blue gaze. He looks at me directly without blinking, his mouth set in a mix of a smirk and a little pout. I want to do all kinds of things to those lips.

“You will enjoy the evening with me. Relax.”

“What are you doing?” The kitten looks at me, his eyebrows quirking up. Gods, he _is_ immune! This will make the evening _much_ more interesting, I think. “I’ll be doing no such thing. Let me go. I’ve had a long day and I’ve already graciously declined your previous invitations. Go find someone else who is actually _interested_.”

His snarky tone turns me on—I like my prey with a little spirit, though it’s been some time since I’ve done this without psychologically influencing my prey. While I had planned on getting him to invite me into his home, if he is immune, I will take him right here in the woods. When his scent floods my nose—probably increased a little by fear, which is equally tempting—I know this is the right choice.

“What _are_ you?” I whisper into the oversized fluffy ear. “No one is immune to my hypnosis.”

“Is that what you’re trying to do?” He is pushing against my chest, trying to get himself free. He’s no slouch, but I’m an ancient vampire and clearly outpower him in every way. “Get real. Let me go. I really don’t have time or energy for your shit today.”

I flatten my ears and meet his gaze—he looks like he means what he says. But he has no idea what I have in store for him.

“Well. I don’t know what you are—being immune to hypnosis and smelling the way you do. In any case, you’ll want to relax a little. It will make this much more pleasant for you.”

“Wait—make _what_ more pleasant? I haven’t agreed to _anything_!”

“The wishes of the prey don’t matter. I’ve given you many chances to do this the easy way, and I’m not a patient person.”

I press him up against the tree, pinning his hands overhead, and I lick his ear, nipping the tip with my fangs and tracing the inside with my tongue. Even before I taste his blood, I taste his sweat—and my gods, I’ve never had any prey that tastes so sweet! He tastes just like his scent—honey, wheat, sunshine, a hot summer day.

“Get _off_ me!” He tilts his head to try to escape my touch—almost, I notice, as if no one has ever licked his ears before. Then it occurs to me… Perhaps he really is a virgin?_ Holy shit_.

“Your innocent reaction gives you away,” I murmur deep into the ear in my mouth, sticking my tongue in deep and feeling him shiver under my touch. “How the hell has no one touched you like this before? You just wiggle your cute little ass and tail around for better tips?”

My words make him flush with embarrassment—the whites of his ears, his cheeks, they flush a lovely shade of pink. I can smell the blood underneath his skin, and I feel almost high.

"I don't—"

“What _are_ you?” I interrupt him in a whisper.

Long ago, my maker told me of a particular type of cat that would smell enticing and wonderful—irresistible to my kind—because they have fae in their blood. Perhaps this kitten is part fairy. I wonder…

He shivers again, still trying to get me to release his arms—but his heart starts to race. I can sense his blood racing through his veins. It’s most likely a mix of fear and desire, and I’m sure it’s confusing.

“If you’re immune to hypnosis, what happens next may be slightly painful for you. My suggestion is that you relax your body as much as possible.”

“I’m not relaxing a goddamn _thing_!” Still full of spunk despite his fear and anxiety, he continues to struggle against me. I lower my mouth and nose from his ear to his neck—taking a nice deep breath of the scent between his neck and shoulder. I feel his pulse throbbing just beneath his skin and I lick him—tasting his sweet sweat. Now I’m no longer sure I want to bite his neck for fear I may be tempted to eat him alive. “Don’t! Let me go! I don’t want you to bite me!”

He really does sound terrified, which only serves to arouse me more.

“What? You don’t want to show off my fang marks to your colleagues at work? They will _protect _you, you stupid cat. Other vampires will avoid you if they know you are mine.”

“I’m _not_ yours!” He bursts out. It’s adorable.

“Well, I don’t have to bite your _neck_, if you’d really rather I not.”

“Please!” Now his tone has switched to something closer to begging—it is equally tempting and arousing. There is something utterly _fascinating_ about this kitten’s voice. I noticed it the first time he served me at the bar. It’s as though my ears are captivated by him. The sound sinks into my heart.

I’ve decided that he will take my blood tonight—so I will always be able to locate him, and it will also increase his sexual thoughts of me—and of course, I will fuck him soundly once we’ve exchanged blood. There’s no choice or decision to be made. This has become a matter of survival for me.

I nip my tongue with my fangs—just enough to pierce it—and press my mouth against his lips. He refuses to relax, but when I press on the hinge of his jaw, he can’t seem to help himself and allows me entrance. His fur bristles fully when he realizes I’ve given him some of my blood. He tries to spit it out of his mouth right away—but once he gets a taste, the effects make his body throb and he stops his struggle.

If I can’t hypnotize him with my eyes, I’ll use my blood. Vampire blood acts like a drug to cats—it stimulates them sexually and causes feelings of euphoria. I can smell the change in him almost immediately. And he isn’t at all happy about the change.

“What have you done to me?” His voice is much softer but still angry.

“You’ve just been given the privilege of drinking Sisa’s oldest living vampire’s blood, stupid little kitten. You ought to be _grateful_.”

“I’m _not_—I don’t _want_ it,” but his pupils are fully dilated, his tail sways helplessly, and I can sense blood rushing to his lower half. He _wants_ it—he may not know exactly what he wants, but he is craving my touch.

His arms stop struggling when I drop to my knees in front of him. Another surprised sound escapes his lips—a sound unlike what he’s made so far—sexy and aroused and perfect—and he leans back against the tree.

Faster than he can process, I quickly unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. I have them pushed down to his knees before he even knows what’s happened. Sometimes it’s handy to be able to move so quickly.

“W-what—?” Bristled fur, dilated pupils, sweat sparkling on his skin... and that scent!

“There’s a nice juicy artery right here that I’m after,” I murmur, giving him a smoldering upward glance and licking along the inside of his thigh. His cheeks are flushed and his shyness is beyond adorable. His knees are even trembling. My mouth starts to water. “Aw, are you frightened? Just go with it. It will only pinch for a second and then it will feel good.”

“N-no! _Stop_! D-don’t!” His protests are still coming but interspersed with breathy pants, they aren’t very convincing.

“Shut up and relax,” I advise before sinking my fangs into his soft skin. I’m shocked at how smooth and virginal his skin is—but the possibility that he might actually _be_ a virgin is incredibly attractive. It’s going to make his blood even sweeter. Saliva is spilling out of the corners of my mouth even before I pierce his skin.

His body jerks violently when I bury my fangs into his thigh, and he loses power almost immediately. He melts against me, digging his hands in my hair—I feel his pokey little claws digging into my scalp and pulling my hair, and I love it.

When his blood seeps slowly into my mouth—it doesn’t disappoint. It’s thick and viscous, like honey—and it tastes sweet and heavy—like the summer. It’s the most delicious feast I’ve ever had for as long as I can remember—and I know from the first taste that I will _never_ be letting him go. This kitten is _mine_.

If another vampire discovers his taste, he will become a hot commodity. How has no one snapped him up yet?

Being exposed before me, however, has an interesting effect on his body when combined with the blood he’s ingested and my fangs piercing his skin. A thick, wet purr rumbles through his body, though he feebly tries to pull me off his leg. I just glance up at him—casting a controlling glare in his direction to remind him to behave.

True, he hasn’t been hypnotized, so he will remember every last bit of this. I’m sure it hurts a little at first, but for most cats, having their blood sucked by our kind is an extremely pleasurable sensation, especially after sharing a taste of mine. He gasps softly—desperately—and makes another weak attempt to push me away. I can't tell if it's extreme shyness or shame or if he really wants to escape, but I don't care. I've had a taste and I will have more. He’s glancing around, trying to figure out where he is.

Apparently, I was correct in my assumption that he doesn’t have a good sense of direction. While this trait is most unusual for Ribika, it seems to fit his airheaded, clueless innocence and that voice. The sounds spilling from him—even when he purses his mouth to restrain himself, soft sighs leak from the corners of his lips—turn me on in a wonderful way. I absolutely _adore _it.

We certainly won’t be stopping after the blood exchange. I want to fuck him even more now.

In addition to giving him my blood, I know I can also leave a bit of myself inside him when I take him—and that will give him a sense of euphoria in addition to helping me track him, just like when he ingests my blood. If he is in danger or afraid, I will hear him and I will be able to locate him. Additionally, it will make him dream about me and increase my allure. _If_ such a thing is possible. Ribika herself knows how alluring I am even _without_ my blood. I have many fans, and every single prey I've ever fed on has been impossibly attracted to me. Even if he is unwilling now, he will change his mind once he experiences a little of what I have to offer.

“W-wait…” It comes out in a soft murmur, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. Gods. So cute!

I’m very careful when I drink from him—only taking what I know he can afford to give—and enjoying every drop on my tongue. His blood fills me with power and a sense of satisfaction, and an extreme sexual attraction to him. Soon, though, I lick the fang marks I’ve left on his leg—a soft bruise surrounds the marks, standing out obviously on his pale skin—and I heal the wound. I won’t waste a single drop of this blood.

“_Fae_,” I whisper. “You have the blood of fae in you. It makes you irresistible to my kind and makes you a prime target for us. Now, you’re under my protection.”

“I don’t _want_ your protection,” he says, and it comes out surprisingly quiet. He looks upset, though—and I wonder if he needs a little more of my blood to help him relax. He’s a small, _virgin_ cat—and if I am going to take him the way I plan to take him, he will need everything he can get to relax.

Things will get much easier for him once he has a little more of my blood. And then… it isn’t long till mating season, and I can’t _wait_. Though my kind doesn’t suffer from symptoms, even after so many centuries in my current form, I will sometimes feel compatibility with another cat. I know this kitten will be compatible and willing—_desperate_ for my touch and my blood by that point. I can see him in my mind, shivering with desire, begging for my caress.

I stand up quickly, making him shiver and bristle—he moves his hands in front of his body as though to protect himself from me—and I easily move them to his sides, and another helpless sigh escapes him. I lower my lips to his and kiss him several times before nipping my tongue again and letting a few more drops of my blood spill into his mouth. This time he doesn’t resist as much.

“Good boy,” I whisper. “Just relax now.” I stroke his soft ears, bristled for me with fear and anticipation. _Intoxicating_.

“N-no…” He is still resisting, much to my surprise. And the soft sounds of his protest continue to arouse me further. I _want_ him.

I turn his body around to face the tree he is leaning against—he draws claws against the bark while releasing another soft sound. Perhaps he is afraid—but that’s all right. He’ll only be afraid for a little while longer. Then, he will lose his mind in pleasure.

“Just relax your body, kitten. Make yourself soft and supple for me and you will feel unimaginable enjoyment,” I murmur into the fluffy ear. I am running my hand through his tail, and he responds by twitching his hips. I think he’s just now realizing how vulnerable he is—a shudder rushing through his body, rippling through his fur. His fear _enthralls_ me.

Lifting up his shirt to expose his pale skin under the moonlight—_virginal_ skin—_virgin_ blood—_virgin_ body—I have to claim him as my own. I bite him a second time—his nape, teasing his scruff between my teeth—and he is surprised by the paralyzation that flows through his body, but he doesn’t lose power completely, keeping his claws dug into the tree in front of him.

Dragging my claws down his hips to his ass—it’s perfectly round and beautiful, framed gorgeously by that swaying uniquely hooked tail. As much as he resists me, his body is begging for touch and begging to be controlled.

“_Please_.”

The soft word sinks into my ears—into my heart—and it causes a surprising physical twinge, a sharp pain in my chest. I’m shocked at the feeling—Am I feeling empathy for a victim? But no. This is _my_ kitten. He is no longer just a victim. He’s under my protection.

“Just relax,” I remind him again, my voice low as a growl.

“Please—don’t do this.” This time a soft sob escapes his throat—and when I look over his shoulder, I see tears sparkling on his face. _Virgin_ tears. I’m thrilled. I can’t help leaning down to lick them from his cheeks. Sweet and delicious like candy. If sunshine has a flavor, that is what this kitten tastes like. It makes me yearn for him with all my being.

“You’ll like it. I will make you feel so good—better than you have ever felt.”

“I don’t _want_ it! Please! Just… let me go! You’ve taken what you want, so please—”

“You don’t _know_ what I want,” I growl softly. “You don’t know what _you_ want, either.”

Another soft sob escapes when I stroke a finger down his spine and drop it between his cheeks, brushing across his entrance just below his tail.

While keeping my thighs pressed up against him so he can’t wiggle free, I let my hand skate around to the front of his hips. His cock is rock hard and dripping onto the forest floor. The idea that _anything_ from this precious kitten—even these drops of precum—might be wasted, absorbing into the ground—is _appalling_ to me. Though perhaps I might dig myself a daytime shelter here, just to be surrounded by that intoxicating scent that has absorbed into the dirt at our feet. I scoop up a few drops in my hand and lick my fingers—it tastes just as sweet as his tears and his blood. But serving him orally at this point—after he’s seen what my fangs are actually used for—would scare him needlessly. I'll save that for another time.

He notices what I’m doing, and a sexy little shiver rushes through his body and his bristled ears flatten.

I press my thumb into his slit, spilling more liquid and using it to smooth out my caress. He feels so eager—despite or maybe _because_ of his fear. I _love_ his response.

I’m no stranger to taking cats against their wishes—but usually, I make them want it with a little hypnosis. I mean, I'm a vampire, and there have been times I have not cared about the wishes or comfort of my prey and don't bother with glamor. This kitten is immune, though—and I can’t remember the last time I’ve helped myself to someone quite so innocent, quite so resistant, and _never_ this delicious. I can’t stop growling—I mean, it’s how I purr these days—it sounds like a low growl—and I can’t control it.

While stroking his cock, I let my finger slip under his tail and push inside the tight ring of muscle, shivering with delight in being the first person to touch him this intimately. I’m gentle but I’m not patient. I don’t want him to feel pain—but once he’s prepared, he should be fine. His insides pulse with warmth and resistance and _life_—and I find him irresistible. I can’t stop and I won’t stop—I need to be inside him.

“W-wait—ah!” He cries out softly, but the way his hips are moving indicates pleasure despite the pain, most likely due to him ingesting my blood. I relish as his resistance crumbles to dust. “Not like this…”

“Oh? Did you have your first time planned out some other way?” I whisper into his flattened ear. “Did you have something else in mind? Because I will guarantee you the ultimate pleasure.”

His fur ruffles again, bristling because I’ve commented on his virginity. He growls at me—his chest rumbling pleasantly under my fingers, and I love how he feels. Even that growl sinks into my heart the same way as his voice. He must have a lot of fae in his blood. Not wasting any time, I push another finger inside his body, feeling him tighten up around my knuckles slightly. But his back is arching, and his tail lifted now, rather than drooping or actively trying to escape.

The way he feels inside—so soft, so warm, so willing—is utterly tempting. I continue stroking his erection, making him less and less resistant and more and more pliable under my fingers. I literally cannot _wait_ to be inside him—and as soon as I can spread two fingers apart, hooking them slightly to brush against his prostate, he shivers with pleasure. And I quickly unbutton my pants, pulling out my cock and pressing against his entrance, keeping my fingers hooked on his outside rim.

A wave of pleasure starts at the base of my spine when I push inside him—and he continues his loud protests, though he really doesn’t sound like he is in pain. Perhaps a _little_ bit of pain—and just a little. I sink my fangs into the wrist of the hand stroking his erection and hold up the dripping blood to his lips. This time, he takes it willingly—probably aware that its effects will relieve his discomfort—and I feel his tongue lapping up the blood spilling into his mouth. A lovely, musical-sounding sigh spills from his mouth around my wrist—and I shiver with delight as it sinks into my ears and into my heart.

My pleasure increases exponentially the further I advance inside him, and when my thighs are finally resting against his ass—that soft, smooth, _virginal _ass—I breathe a heavy sigh into his ear. They are no longer folded back but remain bristled, just like his fluffy tail. His tears seem to have stopped—even over his shoulder I can see his pupils have dilated full and dark.

“You feel amazing,” I whisper softly into his ear, and his lower back arches slightly, sending pleasure crashing into my waist and through the rest of my body. In truth, I love sex. So it shouldn't surprise me that the feel of him—a virgin fae—feels this amazing. Yet it does. It feels better than the first time I drank blood. I let out a ragged breath before rocking back and forth just slightly—taking his first time into consideration.

Normally, I wouldn’t worry so much about his comfort. He’s had my blood, after all, and his body is no longer resisting me, though he is pulsing hot and living around me. His flesh feels _amazing_—and I soon lose control, pulling myself almost all the way out and slamming back against his hips. I can hear his tiny sharp claws digging into the tree in front of him.

Once I begin thrusting more roughly, his breath changes from startled pained gasps to sighs and purrs of pleasure. I tilt my hips up and a violent shiver overtakes him, sending pleasure and his fur rippling across his body. A gorgeous sexy sound like I’ve never heard escapes his lips—it's the opposite of an innocent sound—and his eyes close, long lashes fluttering. That is when his body finally submits to me. As though he could have done anything to escape me—how laughable and ridiculous!—still, it’s cute and sexy.

I repeat the motion, and he is quickly overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock dripping heavily, making the movement of my hand against him even smoother. I grab the base of his tail and bite down on his ear—nipping it just enough to draw a tiny drop of blood with my fangs. I slurp it up loudly, feeling him tremble beneath the touch. But I don’t slow down. I'm filled with unimaginable eagerness and the memory of the warmth of the sun on my skin when I taste his blood. _Exhilarating_.

While I have the ability to extend intercourse for hours if I so desire—and at some point, I plan to make love to his hot little body all night long—I don’t use that skill for his first sexual experience. Instead, I decide to allow him release—and more than anything, I want to spill inside of him, marking him from the inside.

From what I understand, he will absorb the essence from my seed—even after washing—that will bring him physical pleasure and bring my face to his mind constantly, in his dreams and waking hours. Since he is part fae, I do wonder exactly how vampire sex will affect him. But it doesn’t stop me.

I _can’t_ stop—not when I hear his cries of pleasure so soon after seeing tears and resistance and protests. He melts against me, even thrusting his hips back against my rough treatment of his body. I _want_ him to be sore when he wakes tomorrow—I want him to remember how I made him feel and that it was me who made him come completely undone.

A loud, unrestrained cry escapes his mouth after several gasping pants—and I feel him spill his seed into my fist, and his body tightens up like a vice around my cock. I let out a soft, purring breath and release inside him—pleasure coursing through my body from my inside out. I have lots of sex with lots of cats—but the feel of this single innocent kitten makes me want nothing more than to turn him—so he will be by my side _forever_.

After a short rest, I pull out of him, seeing my seed drip from inside of him, down his thigh. I clean up the seed he has spilled into my fist, licking my fingers while he watches me from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. I’m satisfied—and I scoop him up in my arms, pulling up his underwear and pants as I do.

The least I can do is bring this exhausted kitten back to his house. I walk—at Ribikan speed—out of the woods and back onto the path to his home, while holding the exhausted creature close to my chest. His scent is still powerful and sweet, and before I reach his home, I sink my fangs into the side of his neck and suck a few more drops into my mouth. He protests softly but he doesn’t resist.

When he reach his front door, I set him down and lean up against the house, eyeing him carefully.

“Will you invite me in?”

His ears flatten immediately, his fur fluffing out angrily—and my gods, if that isn’t the sweetest sight—his scent mixing with mine, even inside his body, and I can feel his anger and something else flow into my heart. It's so cute when he acts as though he has a choice or the power to refuse. But to my surprise, he growls softly.

“_No_. Go home.” And then he breaks eye contact, and I see tears on his cheeks. I’m shocked to see more tears—I know I gave him more pleasure than he could have ever hoped to experience during his first—or frankly, _any_—sexual experience. So why is he upset? “_Leave_.”

He enters his home, and I cannot follow him without an invitation. He is protected there—from me and the rest of my kind. I wait outside the door, which he closes on me—hard—and I hear him shuffling around, limping slightly. Perhaps I was a little rough for his first time—but he should still be experiencing the effects of my blood.

Then, I hear another captivating sound—it pulls something inside my chest, as though a thin string has been wrapped around my heart and pulled taut—and it actually frightens me with its power. The pain I feel is because of the soft, sweet sound coming from inside that room.

He is being very quiet—as though to hide any sound from me—but I know he is _weeping_. As though he is grieved, as though I have stolen something precious from him—and more than anything, I long to touch him. I want to groom his ears. I want to hold him. I want to lick and kiss away those tears. I want to… _comfort_ him.

What? What is this sensation? I find it confusing. I’m a ruthless creature—a predator who takes what he wants and waits for no one. And yet… I feel _pain_.

“Invite me in, Konoe,” I whisper at the door. I hear him gasp when he realizes I am still outside, and he swallows another sob, but he makes no move to open the door nor speak. He freezes in the space of his small one-room home, waiting for me to leave. I sigh, after waiting a few moments and then leave him to his own devices.

The moment I retreat from the door, I hear the weeping resume once again. Something strange floats up in my chest—for just a moment. It’s a feeling I haven’t felt in a long, long time—perhaps since before I was turned. I think it might be remorse.

It can't be remorse. Most likely, I regret those wasted tears that I could be savoring. I'm a _vampire_. I don't feel remorse.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe's POV--after the assault. He's not doing so well.
> 
> This is triggering, btw.

I had no idea—if it was from the bite or from ingesting his blood (or my body absorbing that other stuff)—I had _no_ idea it would make me feel like this. I can barely stand I’m so fucking high. I can’t believe what just happened.

Since Rai dropped me off at my house, I’ve been frozen in place, crouching low on the floor, devastated and sobbing as softly as I can. I don’t know if these feelings are from the attack, ingesting his blood, him drinking my blood, or the fact that I actually _enjoyed_ myself—feeling so much pleasure I can’t think straight.

But I didn’t _want_ this!

Did I somehow bring it on myself?

After Bardo warned me about him, I was careful not to flirt with that vampire at work—though he’d frequently come in and flirt with me despite my standoffishness. I didn’t mean to lead him on. But maybe I did? Even after refusing his invitations, again and again, I wonder if I failed to properly communicate my feelings. I’m unfamiliar with dating in general, and dating vampires is even more complicated.

I _almost_ invited him in just a few moments ago but remembered he can't come inside without my specific invitation. When he ordered me to invite him into my home, something in my brain clicked and I refused, trying to send him away. But as far as I can tell, he’s still waiting out there. He’ll have to leave by dawn—of that, I’m sure. He will fry in the sun.

But in the meantime—how long is this buzz going to last?

I throw up once it starts wearing off, and it wears off very slowly. But it could be my vomit is caused dehydration from all the tears I’ve shed. This is _not_ how I wanted my first sexual experience to go. At first, to be honest, I really thought a vampire—specifically, _that_ vampire—might be a good partner for my first sexual experience. I can’t hear his thoughts, he’s exceedingly attractive, and he looked experienced. Could he pick up on my desire, I wonder? I was too afraid to actually commit—I mean, I’ve only known him a few weeks and only from our short flirtatious conversations while I’m working. But that just led to… whatever this situation is.

_Rape_? Did he _rape_ me? He forced me, surely. But is there a difference between non-consensual sex and rape? Did I fight back enough? He _had_ to have known that I didn’t _want_ it. I didn’t _want_ his blood, I didn’t want to _give_ him my blood, and I certainly didn’t want sex.

At least not today.

So if I _really_ didn’t want it, why did it still feel so good? I mean… once the pain of penetration faded (and after he gave me more of his blood), he easily made me come, and it was better than anything I’ve ever been able to do myself. It feels terrible now, though. I feel used and disgusting—with his leavings still inside my body—and I think it’s making me feel even higher than I was from his blood. I need to bathe and get all of that out of me!

I don’t understand—why he would force me to drink his blood. I get why he might take mine. Ribika blood is nourishment to them, after all. But I don’t understand why he’d force me to drink his blood—or rape me, for that matter. I thought he _liked_ me.

It makes me think I don’t understand vampires at all.

“Invite me in, Konoe.”

I hear his husky voice right outside my door. It makes all my fur stand on end and my body trembles. I’m not sure if my response is terror or lust—and frankly, I’m ashamed of that! Since vampires can be so quiet, I’d forgotten he might still be out there, so I shut up as quickly as possible. I don’t move an inch, and I force my breath to stop hitching so I will be quiet. The tears aren’t doing me any good anyway.

Will I go into withdrawal now? Because I’ve had his blood? I’m scared out of my mind. I’ve heard cats that ingest too much vampire blood suffer severe withdrawal symptoms. Plus… what am I going to do if he comes back to the bar? What if he sits in my section? How can I ever face him again?!

Can I tell someone? Can I get help? Who could even help me with this, anyway? I could go to the police, but they will need evidence and I’m not leaving my house right now. I could call 911, but that would mean I will have to confess I actually _know_ this vampire. They won’t believe me—or worse, he might glamor them to prevent them from believing me. A few weeks ago, Bardo warned me—I just didn’t _hear_ it. If I told him, I know he’d rebuke me and say it was my own fault for flirting with him. But was I? Flirting? Is that what Rai thought?

And even if I _was_ flirting, that is not the same as inviting his intrusive touching and caressing and biting and… fucking. Was it?

Maybe there’s a lot about relationships I don’t understand. The only thing I know for sure is I need to get some water in my body soon, and I need to bathe.

I can’t be bothered to worry about whether he is skulking outside my front door anymore. I should be safe here for the night. He can’t come in, and he will have to leave before dawn. Maybe after work, I’ll ask someone to walk me home tomorrow. I can do that even without a reason, I think.

After about four large glasses of water and some painkillers, I soak for a while in the tub, which isn’t my favorite way to get clean but I am too sore to stand under the shower. I work hard to get his scent and his come out of me, and it freaks me out to touch my own body. It feels _different_—like it’s not part of me or on my side anymore. It _betrayed_ me by becoming aroused during that attack. I just want every trace of that vampire scrubbed from my body and the more I scrub, the more it feels like that stuff is absorbing inside me. The remains of that weird, sexual high aren’t wearing off. That only makes me hate my body even more. When I’m finished, I pull on my soft cotton pajamas and crawl into bed. I am exhausted.

My body is _amazingly_ sore—where the silver cat entered me—where he _raped_ me—and the bites on my skin, on my thigh, my neck, even my ear, are throbbing gently. I can barely get myself changed and it’s hard to walk. I hope this is better tomorrow. I do not want to stand on my feet all day, running around taking orders, only to be reminded every minute of what he did to me.

I had _no_ idea how painful sex could be. I should have guessed, especially based on the difference in our statures. Part of me assumed it would be pleasant since so many cats engage in the activity regularly and think about it _all_ the time. I can hear their thoughts. But even worse, I didn’t know how amazingly _pleasurable_ it could feel. I’ve never felt that way—and it’s not as though I never touch myself. It just has never felt like that—so intense and so frightening, a strange combination of incredible pain and pleasure. The idea that such pleasure could come after such terror and pain astounds me and frightens me.

Even after soaking for nearly an hour in the bath, I am still having a hard time moving my legs without severe pain. I didn’t know it would hurt so much afterward. Even with the blood I ingested, which I realize now works as an anesthetic and aphrodisiac, I _hurt_.But it’s not the pain in my physical body that is bothering me the most. It’s this sense of horrible betrayal in my chest.

It was foolish to trust the silver vampire. I found him attractive and enticing, mostly because of the silence and peace I felt when I was close to him, not to mention his good looks. But I also thought when he was inviting me to dinner or to work for him that he meant those as _invitations, _not as my _only_ option to consent to what he’d already decided to do. I was never afraid of him before tonight—in fact, I looked at him as a gentle guardian, a vampire who would convince others to leave me alone and protect me. I misinterpreted his motives, and I have never been so wrong about something in my life.

He was a beast—he fucked me, sucked my blood, just like a beast. And really, maybe that is his true nature. It’s as though some sort of restraint fell from him—the restraint I see when he decides to move his body slowly around me to prevent frightening me or brush his claws through my ears or my tail—after he licked my ears. I've never had someone groom my ears that I can remember. Even the memory makes me scrub my ears with my hands, and I lick them to groom my fur and settle myself. I can’t seem to forget the feeling, though.

A few more tears slip down my cheeks as I curl up in bed. I feel utterly alone—and I don’t think I can tell anyone what happened. Everyone I know would rebuke me for my carelessness—walking home alone in the dark—or blame me for leading him on and being stupid. Even I blame myself, to a certain degree. But what other option did I have? I could have asked for someone to walk me home, but why would I? I’ve been taking this path without incident for at least a year now. How was I to know he’d follow me? How did he discover where I lived?

I didn’t even see him at work tonight. He must have been waiting to ambush me in the woods. I know he can move faster than I can see, but still! I can’t believe he followed me from work without my noticing.

By the time I have finished my evening grooming routine, I no longer shake unless I close my eyes. Then I feel him inside me—thrusting in and out of me while my claws dig into the bark of the tree, his hands caressing my skin, his tongue in my ear, his voice sinking into my heart. And worse still—the sounds leaking from my mouth ring in my ears and they make me feel so guilty!

I _must_ have wanted it. Maybe his blood made me want it. Didn’t he say that sex with a vampire is as close to heaven as a cat can get? That and exchanging blood, and I did both. When he offered me his wrist, I took it willingly. I needed something for the pain. And it helped—at the time—and made me even more aroused. It must be what he did to me that made me respond the way I did. So... why do I still feel so guilty?

Swallowing back more tears and trying to relax, I take several deep, calming breaths. I’m exhausted after a long night at work and dangerously tired after that… incident. Despite my fears, I drop off to sleep very quickly. And I have dreams. Vivid, horrible, sexy dreams, starring that vampire.

It feels so real and lifelike, so much so that I’m unsure if this is really a dream. I’m in my home, and there’s a knock at the door. The moon of light is high in the sky, and standing on my front porch is Rai in all his glory. In fact, there seems to be some sort of mystical aura surrounding him like a halo, making his hair shine beautifully. He smiles down at me—showing off those long fangs of his, leaning in a little, and he kisses my nose sweetly.

“Good morning, my gorgeous kitten.”

His voice makes shivers rush down my spine, raising goosebumps on my skin and fluffing up my fur.

He pushes his way inside my home—which I know he can’t do without an invitation, but yet, here he is. And I don’t resist or struggle against him. In my dream, I think… I think I _want_ him here. I think I’m _welcoming_ him. I want him to touch me, I want him to kiss me, and I want him to fuck me.

He closes the door behind him—he must have used his foot or moved very fast since both his hands are busy stripping me out of my tee-shirt and jeans, kissing my lips, nipping at my tongue—and I taste the strange mix of metal and sweetness on my tongue. Even the taste makes my body respond sexually.

Gasps, sighs, and moans spill from between our lips—and he pushes me back against the bed. _My_ bed. In my own home. And yet—I return his kisses, pulling off his shirt, feeling the smooth lines of his muscular chest and nipping his throat as though my body is craving him. He peers down at me with the same pale blue eyes he had before—dilated pupils filled with unrestrained desire and lust—like some kind of animal.

In my dream, I _love_ that look. He makes me feel like prey—like something he wants and desires—and it feels _powerful_.

I relax in his touch, letting him caress me, enjoying his hands toying with my cock and stroking my ass. And then he lifts up his torso, staring down at my neck. I lift my chin to expose my throat, showing submission and welcoming his bite, and he sinks his fangs into me.

I cry out loud when I feel the pinch of his teeth on my tender skin—and I wake up with a start, jerking up in bed, feeling a sharp, stabbing pain in my hips and ass when I do—despite the fact that I’ve just spilled cum all over my sheets. The sudden movement makes me gasp in pain—but I’m so relieved it was just a dream. And my head is killing me.

Why would I dream about him? Why would I have _that_ sort of dream? Do I secretly desire him? I almost never have those sorts of sex dreams—especially not right after taking care of my own needs which were certainly sated last night. It must be residual effects of his blood.

Looking outside, I feel relief when the pale rays of the moon seep into my windows through the gaps in the curtain. It looks like it must be around noon. He must be gone now. He can’t be out there anymore.

After last night, I realize I really don’t know as much about vampires as I thought. So I lean over to my side table and pick up my phone. I can look it up.

> _—What happens when you get bitten by a vampire?_

From what I read, it’s just what I experienced. They _can_ drain you—suck you dry—and you will die. (There is nothing in the articles I read about how a vampire might sire another vampire, I notice.) However, within the current vampire authority, draining victims is frowned upon and can bring punishment. But if they feed on you bit by bit, you can service a vampire for a long time safely since your body continues making blood. It seems vampires have preferences for specific blood types and they can smell them even through the barrier of the skin. Also, some vampires prefer their Ribikan partners to avoid certain foods and eat more of others for better blood production and taste.

> _—What happens when a vampire bites you?_

I’m scared to press enter. Does this mean I will become a vampire? So far, I feel the same—or a little worse for wear. But I have to know and so I press the search button.

Having a vampire offer you their blood allows them a psychological connection. Vampire blood is intoxicating to Ribika—giving them a sensation of pleasure and euphoria. Vampires often refrain from sharing blood with their partners because once they do, they form a permanent bond. They will be able to hear you when you’re in need of help, feel when you feel sexual desire, and it also increases their attraction in your eyes. Even if a vampire you _don’t_ like shares their blood with you, you may find yourself inexplicably dreaming and thinking about them as a result. Also, it apparently has healing powers and can heal all kinds of injuries. That probably explains why I'm just sore from yesterday.

Shit. I can’t believe my eyes. Is this why I’ve been having these dreams? It makes sense. Although, part of me thinks I was attracted to Rai even before he raped me. But now, he will know exactly how often I’m thinking about him—and what exactly my thoughts are.

Gods! I can't do that! Now I'm even more worried about him showing up at work!

Restraining fresh tears—I have to work today and I don’t want to look like I’ve been crying all night—I can’t believe this. How did I get myself into this situation? And why do I feel so guilty when I haven’t even _done_ anything?! I’m angry, too. But mostly… I’m upset because that was the very first time anyone has touched me like that and certainly, I felt a lot of lust and pleasure. And that is the _worst_ part of all of this. It felt good and that makes me think part of me _wanted_ it!

I can’t stop thinking about how good it felt!

It’s a little past noon, and I have to take another shower to clean myself up after that dream. Rolling out of bed, the moment I stand up a sharp pain shoots through my hips, making me gasp. Fuck! _Painful_.

If I don’t go to work, someone may show up here—probably my boss or a coworker—and check on me. I could call in sick, but it’s a Saturday and they need all the help they can get. Plus, if I don’t go in, what’s to say I will ever leave my house again?

Then I remember—I have some _silver_. Vampires are weak against silver. I limp over to my jewelry box and find a silver ring—a keepsake from my father—and slip it on my finger. Then, a slim silver chain from my mother will go nicely around my neck. That will give me some protection myself if he dares show his face at the bar again.

After a shower, I’m feeling a little better. I get dressed—in my jeans and uniform tee-shirt—both fresh ones, not the ones from last night. Those clothes still smell like Rai—fresh spring rain mixed with some other strange sweet scent. And even smelling them sends blood rushing into my hips. My ears heat up with a hot blush—and I feel a little dizzy. As well as disgusted and ashamed.

Trying not to acknowledge any of my feelings, I throw them and my pajamas and sheets into the wash before I leave for work. I look at myself in the mirror, making sure I look decent. My face is pale, but my eyes aren’t swollen. I’m sure I’ll feel better after some coffee.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At work Saturday, Rai returns to Bardo's bar. This chapter is told from his (arrogant) POV, keeping in mind his status as an ancient vampire.
> 
> There's non-con oral sex in this chapter, not to give you any spoilers.

The fae kitten is limping.

I’m shocked to discover this—even as I keep out of his sight while he works at his regular tables this evening. I'm even sitting in another section, making sure he doesn't see me. He is walking as though every step he takes is painful. And that is most likely my doing.

In addition to a real sense of pride and accomplishment that I affected the kitten in such an obvious way, that strange stabbing sensation shoots through my chest. It’s a feeling I can’t quite identify. I’m sure it _isn’t_ guilt. It can’t be. I don’t feel things like guilt anymore.

The bar is filled with my kind tonight—I can identify them easily. Ribika aren’t able to identify my kind—especially if they aren’t ordering True Blood. But I can, and I do, keeping a close eye on them.

At one point, when the kitten is on his break, I actually get up to confront one young vampire I don't recognize at his table.

“Do you _want_ to die?”

Ears flatten and a quiet hiss escapes from his mouth. I've certainly got his attention, as well as that of his maker next to him, another young vampire I do know.

“That one is mine. In case you're new at this, that is _my_ scent you smell on him. If you don’t leave him alone, I’ll rip your heart out.”

I hear his maker whispering, “Man, that’s the _sheriff_!” And then the vampire I'm addressing bows his head.

“I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

“I haven’t seen you before. Are you new to the area?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, you know it’s your duty to check in with me. At Fangtasia.”

“I, um, just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Because you’re spending all your time lusting after someone you can’t have?”

“I humbly apologize.”

“If you don’t turn up there within two nights, I will find you and extract your fangs before tearing out your heart.”

I speak with conviction but no malice. I’m just certain that this vampire's maker hasn't informed his child about our unspoken rules about prey. Unless specifically agreed to in advance, we do not share prey. I _especially_ do not share prey. And not _this_ prey.

Even despite the obvious limp, the fae kitten still glides around the room like his feet don’t quite touch the ground. Even the way he moves reminds me of a summer festival dance, perhaps something I remember from before I became what I am. It's nostalgic.

When he turns around the corner to sneak off to the restroom, I get up and follow him. I’ve noticed more of my kind than usual hanging around here tonight—and if they haven't noticed my scent on him, for sure they have heard my specific warning to the uninformed baby vampire. Ribika are sensitive to smell, but not nearly as sensitive as vampires. My scent—and my presence tonight in the bar—makes them back off a little.

I can hear him in the stall, shuffling around uncomfortably. Folding my arms across my chest, I lean back against the sink and wait quietly if not patiently.

When he exits the stall, all his fur bristles at once. And yet—something feels slightly different about him from last night. I suppose it’s possible he’s surprised just because he hadn’t seen me in the bar this evening—I didn’t sit in his section, after all—but it’s almost too much to see him all bristled up like that. But it seems like something else is different, I'm sure. It can't be his virginity, I'm sure. I've spent time before and after with cats after having sex with them, I'm sure some of them were virgins, and the difference has never been this obvious. I scan him from head to toe looking for a clue, and his fur bristles even more. He’s erect, I notice with delight, most likely from my scent.

“Are you sore? I can see you’re limping. Let me help you.”

“No!” He hisses. “Get _away_ from me! Don’t _touch_ me!”

That’s when I notice exactly what is different about him. It’s the _silver_—on his finger and the delicate chain around his neck. I _see_. He is trying to _resist_ me. In fact, despite his trembling body—trembling with a mix of fear and lust—he reaches the hand out to me wearing the silver ring. If a kitten like this could have a chance against me, using silver, he would need a lot more. It's almost cute, his resistance. But something in my heart shifts uncomfortably. I ignore it.

“Aww. Did you wear this just for me?” I purr softly in his ear, restraining his hand using vampire speed, grabbing his delicate wrist and pinning it to his side. “And a necklace, too?” I run a claw just beneath the necklace on his collarbone—such a beautiful part of his body. I want to sink my teeth in. 

I don’t want to risk the necklace burning me later, so I quickly yank it from his neck and let it fall to the floor. My fingers sizzle just a tad when they touch the silver—a steam-like smoke rising from my burned flesh. He shivers when he hears the sound and smells the scent of singed flesh.

“That wasn’t very kind of you. Do _you_ like it rough, kitten?”

I push him up against the door—which will serve us well. It opens inward, so no one will bother us with my strength pushing against it. I can smell his fear increasing, but it also increases his lust, making him tantalizing.

“Don’t touch me,” he whispers.

“You’re saying you don’t _want_ me to touch you? Not even a _little_ bit? You know, if you hadn’t ingested my blood, I’d almost believe you. In fact, let’s make a little deal.”

Honey-colored eyes glance up at me—and while I’m expecting an angry glare, I get a melting gaze that makes my heart feel funny. What the hell is this creature? I swallow the feeling back down and continue murmuring into his fluffy oversized ear.

“I’ll let you get back to work if you _scream_. And I don’t mean in pleasure. I mean for _help_.”

“Please,” he begs, and tears surface in his eyes. One slips down his cheek and I lick it. Gods—he is _delicious_! My heart aches when I taste his sweet and salty flavor on my tongue. I want to make him cry more. I want to devour him...

“You know, just a little taste of my blood and you should be back to normal. You would have a much easier time walking, I think. I’d only require a small exchange—”

“I said _no_! I didn’t agree to anything last night, and I am certainly not agreeing now!” He is hissing, not raising his voice. _Interesting_.

“I could even take my share without piercing your skin. I think you'd love it. It'd solve your other little problem,” I say thoughtfully, letting my eyes sweep down the front of his body to his waist. His dick is already filled with blood and seeping, as I can smell through the front of his jeans—I expect as much, since he’s probably been dreaming and fantasizing about me since last night.

I have, too, strange enough. It’s been a while since I shared my blood with a living creature, and I’d forgotten that I also share the recipient's feelings when he thinks about me, feels sexual desire or fear—and this kitten has been feeling nothing but those two things since last night. It’s utterly enticing and irresistible.

“Please!” The kitten hisses again, but he’s keeping his voice quiet, indicating clearly he doesn’t want anyone to come in here. “Please—just _go_!”

He couldn’t actually be rejecting me, could he? No living creature has the power to reject a vampire as old and experienced as I am.

“Why do you fight your desires so much? Don’t you remember how good I made you feel last night? And I know you dreamed of me. I felt that dream. Let me do this little favor for you. I owe it to you. It's the least I can do.”

A quiet gasp escapes his lips, along with a soft moan, when I press my lips against his. I’ve already nipped my tongue just a little, letting the metallic taste of my blood seep into his mouth. And while at first, he tries to resist, pushing against my chest with his free hand—drawing his claws against my shirt, his body softens the moment my blood touches his tongue.

Another vulgar sound escapes his lips, and he’s gorgeous and needy and desperate, all at once. _Fascinating_!

After he has a few drops of my blood and I’m sure he’s swallowed them—he should be feeling much better now—I drop to my knees before him and unbutton his jeans, seeing him bristling all his fur in fear, surprise, and anticipation. I keep his silvered hand in a tight grip next to his body, pressed against the door.

“Just relax. I don’t have to bite you unless you want me to,” I whisper against the inside of his thigh, dragging my tongue along his inner thigh up to his groin. I lower the waistband of his underwear, letting his cock spring free. He’s hard and dripping and he smells so good. “Ask me, and I’ll happily oblige.”

I can feel my fangs bare but I am careful not to nip him. Instead, I sink my mouth around his cock and grab his hips, pulling him closer. He moves his hand from my hair to grab the door behind him to steady himself, making a loud thump, and his knees buckle. A gorgeous, sexy moan floats into my ears, and I hear him purring.

He’s _purring_. He wants this as much as I do, I’m sure. I don’t waste any time—this is a public restroom, after all, I notice with irritation—and I move my tongue around him and bob my head up and down, trying to get him off as quickly as possible. I need to get him to invite me into his home and then we wouldn't have to do this here. More than anything, I want _more_ of him—more of his taste—on my tongue. A sweaty, hot summer day—it’s what his precum tastes like.

“_Please_…” His soft voice sinks into my ears.

My ears twitch when I hear the door handle rattle behind him, but whoever is outside gives up almost right away—and strangely, the kitten _still_ doesn’t cry out for help. When I glance up at him, it looks like he is biting his lip to prevent any sound from escaping. The brief interruption doesn’t seem to affect his current level of arousal, however, so I keep going, feeling him give up his resistance along the way, melting into my hands and into my mouth.

His inexperience with any sort of sex is astounding to me. Back in the day, I’ve had my share of virgins—sacrificed to the god or devil known as me in exchange for protection from other vampires—but he is nothing like them. He feels and tastes like innocence, but the soft purring sighs are sensual and alluring like nothing I’ve heard. He relishes the sensation and experiences touch in the moment, despite or maybe _because_ of his fear. I can feel him fighting his desire and it's quickly winning.

He revels in my touch—despite his initial resistance. In fact, I’m no longer even holding him against the door. I nearly release his wrist, since the other hand is currently combing through the fur on my ears, making me purr. His touch is tender and sweet. I can hardly wait for the day for him to beg for my caress.

It isn’t long before he spills into my mouth—the taste of him is even sweeter than I remember last night—his precum has a soft taste of honey and sunshine and his cum even tastier and rich. Many Ribika don’t know this, but vampires get nourishment from all bodily fluids—not just blood. And this is one of my favorite ways to get my fill.

Especially from this cat.

I’m heavily aroused after drinking from him—feeling his body go completely soft and submissive in my arms, shivering with pleasure. I see goosebumps on his skin, his tail fluffy and fuzzy, and his breath hitching loudly. I even hesitate a moment before I dress him, thinking about fulfilling my own desires with this supple body. But I restrain myself for now. He's young and has had my blood. I can wait a little longer. When I pull up his pants and button them back up, I’m a little shocked to see the tears on his face.

Tears?

My chest is stabbed again—that same thin string is wrapped around my heart and pulled tight. What is this sensation? What _is_ he, that he can affect me this way? Why is he looking at me like that?

“What is it? Doesn’t your body feel much better?”

“I said _no_!” He hisses in a sobbing whisper. “I don’t _want_ this—”

“You don’t want what?” I am truly confused, looking up at him from the floor. He has nothing to complain about, surely. “Hasn’t my blood cured your ailment? Enough so we could go again if you like—”

“I _don’t_ like!” He is trying to push himself away from me, but I won’t let him escape so easily.

“You are _mine_. Even if you don’t yet realize it, you are _mine_ and mine _alone_. Haven’t you noticed the other vampires out there tonight? They are treating you differently because they can smell my scent on you.” I stand up quickly, and he bristles again, his pupils dilating like the prey he is while I tower over him.

“Huh?” It’s a fetching sound, albeit slightly stupid sounding, and he flinches slightly. That small movement makes my heart lurch strangely. 

“Seriously, kitten. The bar is swarming with vampires—I had to rebuke one publicly for gawking at you a little too long. They can _smell_ you—and they recognize my scent on you. They will leave you alone, thanks to me.”

“I never asked for your help! In fact, I _declined_ your invitation—”

“About that… for your sake, you might consider inviting me into your home, so we wouldn’t be forced to do it in public places or at your workplace,” I purr suggestively. I run my claws down his jaw and chin, tilting his face up toward mine for a moment. I take his lips—and he responds—my gods, what a response!

He actually _bites_ me—he is so aroused even just after coming in my mouth that he _bites_ me. I purr softly in return, letting the blood from the tiny wound from his sharp little fangs seep into his mouth, and he pulls away almost violently but not before getting a nice taste of it.

“Get _off_!”

“Is that an invitation to take you?” I murmur.

“Fuck you!”

“Is _that_?”

“Get away from me!” He actually sobs—fresh tears spilling down his face. He needs to learn not to cry like this because I find his tears utterly arousing. Perhaps he is unaware?

“You are aware that vampires can get nourishment from most _anything_ that comes out of your body, aren’t you?”

He glares up at me, eyes sparkling, and I lick his cheek to make my point.

“These tears—pretty much irresistible to me. Your words and actions don’t match, kitten.”

“I have to get back to work!” He blurts out—exasperated.

Finally, I release his wrist, and he bends down to pick up the necklace from the floor. He has a gorgeous little shape. I could look at it all night, though I'd much prefer to see his ass bare or in something risqué.

“You shouldn’t wear it if you don’t know how to use it,” I recommend helpfully. “It won’t protect you—”

“I _know_ that. Now. Get out of my way!”

“I’ll see you home after work.” I release him now, figuring I've probably spent enough time in here for him to be missed.

“No! _Please_! Just go!” He flounces out of the restroom, slamming the door behind him. In a few minutes, the door opens, and the bar’s owner—the old tiger—walks in.

“What are you doing in here? The restroom is for _living_ customers only. I shouldn’t have to explain why.”

“What are _you_ doing in here, then?” I growl softly. I dislike this tiger with a passion.

The tiger bristles his fur and shows me his fangs.

“Get out of here and stay away from Konoe.”

“He’s been working for you what, a year now?” I think that’s what I remember. “And you’ve never tasted him? Too late for you at this point—though I understand your envy.”

“Get the fuck out of my bar.”

“If only you were alive, you’d be able to rescind your invitation, wouldn’t you?”

He growls low in his throat.

“If I find out you have hurt that kitten in any way…”

“What? _What_ will you do?” I taunt him—teasingly. “You know you’ve lost your chance to do anything at all to me.”

“But I do have something you want, don’t I? Working for me whenever I ask.”

I bristle up my fur and bare fangs—and to my annoyance, the tiger doesn’t even flinch. The bastard!

“If you touch him—well. He will _certainly_ find out what you _really_ are. He has no idea who you are. And if he’s working for a vampire now, he won’t hesitate to work for one who cherishes him enough to be honest with him.”

I waltz out of the restroom and return to my table. I pay the bill and slip out of the bar. In truth, the kitten looks much better now—if a little dazed. He isn’t limping anymore. So now, I will wait for his shift to finish. But hell if I’m going to wait where the tiger can see me. Instead, I wait outside, enjoying the evening breeze and the soft scent of my fae kitten, even outside in the night air. I know the old tiger won’t hurt Konoe. If he does, I’ll kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention I have a horrendous sinus infection, and it's making me write bad things and post with very bad editing. :) Please pardon the dust. And snot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Konoe's POV--still at work on Saturday. His boss confronts him, and he doesn't know what to do.
> 
> Triggers: Attempted sexual assault, angst.

_What was that?_

I’m back to working my tables, and I do feel better. I’m not nearly so sore. It doesn’t hurt to walk, at least. But I'm still feeling just a little buzzed from the little bit of blood I ingested, and it's confusing. And I am noticing the vampires—more than half of my tables have a vampire guest seated at them tonight. Why didn’t I notice before?

I didn’t _want_ it. I didn’t want to be touched like that! I’m sure I refused.

I look around in Tokino’s section, and I don’t see the silver cat anywhere. He must have left. I sincerely hope he isn’t waiting for me outside. My fur bristles and my body trembles in what I hope is fear but is probably a mix of fear and lust.

“Konoe!”

I hear Bardo’s voice yelling at me across the bar. It’s startlingly harsh, and I wonder if I fucked up someone’s order. It wouldn’t surprise me since I've been a little scattered all night—but I’m nervous now.

I approach the kitchen, where the tiger is standing with his hands on his hips. He looks displeased.

“Tokino’s going to watch your tables for a minute. I need to talk to you.”

My hand floats up to my neck, suddenly realizing I didn’t actually wear the scarf I had planned to wear. I forgot to check if the fangs marks from last night were showing through my collar. I don’t want to talk about what happened with _anyone_—and least of all, my boss.

“What happened to you in the restroom?”

“…”

“Konoe. I saw the silver vampire follow you in there. I shouldn’t need to tell you this, but there’s no reason for a vampire to use the bathroom.”

“… He was just washing his hands. I, um, I think he spilled… something. His drink. His True Blood. That’s right. He was washing his hands in the sink.” Even I can hear how lame my lie sounds.

“Is that why I couldn’t open the door?”

“What?” My heart drops to my feet—taking my stomach with it. I feel like I might be sick.

“Listen. He’s ancient and has a lot of experience. He will try to trick you.”

“Nothing happened!” I insist a little too enthusiastically. I’m not even sure I want to deny what happened in there, but for sure I’m not ready to talk about it or last night! That's my choice, isn't it? “Please—don’t make a big deal.”

“I warned you to stay away from him,” Bardo growls.

“Do you know him or something?”

“You could say that. I know you can’t trust him.”

“Why? And how do you know him? I thought you didn’t know any vampires.”

The look he is giving me is hard to read. He doesn't answer my question.

“Are you in trouble? I’ve noticed an increase in our vampire clientele recently. Did you go to Fangtasia even though I warned you to stay away from that place?”

“No!” But even if I had—in my free time, can’t I do as I like? “Why are you asking me that? Isn’t it good to have more customers? They pay for their drinks just like anyone else.”

Bardo doesn’t reply. Still, shouldn’t he be glad there are more customers? Only six months ago he was complaining that the weekends were too slow. We have more customers than we can handle now.

“Really? I mean we used to be so slow. Surely, any increase in business is good—”

“Not _that_ guy’s business!” Bardo snaps suddenly. He grabs my chin and tilts up my face so I have to look at him. I see his nostrils twitch and his eyes graze my face and neck—specifically, the spot on my neck where I was bitten. It looked much less bruised this morning than it did last night but apparently, he can still see it. “What happened here?”

“Um, I cut myself shaving,” I say lamely, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You don’t have enough facial hair to shave!” It’s easy for him to mock me like that—he wears a beard. I feel offended and defensive.

“I do, too! I just don’t have a lot of practice, and my razor is old. I didn’t know I needed to replace it…”

“So these aren’t fang marks?”

There’s no way a _cat_ would be able to smell a vampire on me. I bristle my fur.

“Is it against the dress code to shave or something?”

And shit, _why_ am I defending him? Why am I defending that silver bastard—after what he did to me?! I don’t understand—but I _do_ know I don’t want to tell _anyone_ what happened to me last night—nor what he just did to me in the restroom. I’m not ready, and Bardo's expression is telling me he already knows and thinks I brought this on myself. I dig myself in deeper.

“Do you want me to leave? Go home till my wound has healed? I thought it might even be good for business—”

“Don’t even fucking _joke_ about that, Konoe,” Bardo replies ferociously. I don’t understand why he is so upset! “You have _no_ idea what the scent of your—I mean, the scent of blood does to these creatures. You’re like walking kadil to them.”

“Kadil?!” I spit. “You know, I don’t have to put up with this, even from you! If you don’t want me working here, just _say_ so! I’ve been a great employee, but I have had other job offers—”

“You want to work at Fangtasia? Go ahead. You’ll be drained in less than a week. I'm sure we'll find you dead in a ditch somewhere. That or the silver bastard is going to imprison you in his dungeon.”

“Bardo, don’t be ridiculous! There’s no dungeon in Fangtasia. What year do you think this is? And why are you so upset—?”

“Listen, kitten. You are _innocent_ and _inexperienced_. You smell really nice, and you probably have a popular blood type. Vampires can smell your blood even through your skin. And... you have beautiful skin.”

What? What the hell is he talking about? My fur fluffs out defensively now.

“I’m pretty sure that’s sexual harassment! I don’t have to take this from you! What about _Tokino_? Do you ever ask _him_ about how he spends his free time when he isn’t working for you? You should hold us to the same standards!”

Bardo runs his claws through his hair and pulls it in irritation. His fangs are bared—and I realize they are unusually long, even for a cat his size. Why have I never noticed before? In fact…

“I’m _worried_ about you! You mean a lot to me—and not just as an employee. I _care_ about you, Konoe. I don’t want anything to happen to you—”

“Why do you know so much about vampires? You were one of the first bars to stock True Blood in Ransen, too. _Why_? Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why?”

“I told you. I care for your wellbeing. You have no family to speak of, kitten. I think of you… like I do my own son.”

His words calm down my anger a little—he is good at soothing me and he's done it often.

“Maybe I worry too much. I noticed you’re immune to glamor.”

“Vampire hypnotization? How would you know that?”

“We have a bar _full_ of vampires, Konoe. I’ve watched them talking to you. I’ve seen almost every single one of them try to hypnotize you while you were taking their order!”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re _immune_. You blink and smile like it’s nothing. I've never seen anything like it.”

There he goes again, talking specifically about vampires. Why does he know so much?

“Bardo, I need to tell you something. You know how I have that strange ability… to read other people’s thoughts? Well, it doesn’t happen around vampires.”

And suddenly, I realize I cannot hear _Bardo’s_ thoughts. Have I ever been able to?

“Well, you haven’t been able to hear mine, have you?”

“Actually, no.” This makes fresh suspicion rise in my mind. “Are _you_ a vampire?”

“Kitten, no! After you told me that—or maybe I heard it from Tokino—I learned a special meditation technique to hide my thoughts from you. To make it easier for you to work here.”

“Yeah, _all_ the time, though? Isn’t that a lot of effort? Why would you go so far?” Unless there was something he didn't want me to know.

“You’ve been working for me almost a year now, haven’t you? You can trust me.”

“…”

“You _know_ me, Konoe. I only want to protect you. Like a father would his son.”

I wish I could hear his actual thoughts. I’d know whether to believe him or not. But up till now, he’s always been so warm in his interactions with me. I have no reason to doubt him now. Except he’s acting like a possessive lover instead of overprotective father at this point. It just seems odd.

“You _do_ believe me, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And if you get involved with a vampire, you’ll let me know?”

“Why? It’s _none_ of your business!”

“So you _are_ involved in him?”

“It just—_no_. I mean, I think he’s handsome. And I like how his presence masks the thoughts always invading my mind.”

“You like _him_? Can’t you pick someone else?”

“Why not? You have to tell me more than that if you expect me to believe you. You have to give me a reason why.”

“He’s _violent_! He kills cats for fun—not just for nourishment. He drains them and leaves them for dead!”

“Vampires don’t only get nutrition from blood, Bardo. This isn’t well-known, but they can also get nutrition from other sources.”

Bardo’s fur fluffs up and he lowers his voice to almost a growl.

“And how the _hell_ would you know anything about that?”

His tone frightens me. It _terrifies_ me! Now, this sounds threatening.

“I’m going to go back and check on my tables,” I say. “You’re scaring me!”

My arm is grabbed suddenly, and I’m pulled back against Bardo’s chest. The touch frightens me and I flinch, but I soften my body when he hugs me tight. It’s _just_ a hug. Bardo is touchy like this sometimes. I get it. I understand. This is the same old Bardo—the old tiger boss I’ve had for a year. I'm imagining things probably because of Rai's blood.

“Just… promise me you won’t bite off more than you can chew.”

“I won’t be doing any biting.”

“Obviously. Just—I know it sounds tempting to become a vampire. But there’s something special about who you are. You should stay as you are. Don’t be led astray.”

His words are slightly ominous, but I nod my head.

“And you’ll tell me if you get in trouble?”

I don’t know what an old tiger like him could do if I _were_ in trouble, but I nod just the same.

“Okay. Then get back to work.” He pats my ass in that overly friendly way—many customers do that, too, so I’m used to it. I don’t like it—and I’m _sure_ a father wouldn’t touch his son that way. But who knows? Maybe my mother would have.

I don’t turn around. I just push open the kitchen door and get back to my tables. I’m slightly distracted for the rest of my shift, of course. I keep thinking about what Rai did to me in the bathroom—and also, trying to remember if I have _ever_ heard Bardo’s thoughts. Why don’t more people learn that trick? I don’t like listening to others’ private feelings and it would save me a lot of grief.

When Bardo finally closes the bar, he sends me home early, telling me I look especially tired. I am exhausted, and all I want to do is go home and sleep. I’m so exhausted, though, it slips my mind that I _wanted_ to stay till close so I could ask Tokino to walk with me. I’m already out the back door and walking toward the path to my home when I remember.

In fact, I smell his scent before I hear that voice—dripping with that husky, honeyed tone, slipping sneakily into my ear and sending an unwanted burst of arousal to my hips.

“Not closing up tonight? Looked like business was booming for the old man.”

“I told you I’m _not_ interested. Haven't you had enough?” I ask, looking around desperately. But I’m already on the path through the woods—and I take this way for the exact reason of it being deserted during this time of night.

“You sure didn’t _act_ like you weren’t interested—earlier today _or_ yesterday—and not now, either. You have been fantasizing about me, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t—and if I had, it wouldn’t be your business.”

“Did you notice all the vampires at the bar afterward? You should have increased your ability to smell and notice others of my kind after accepting a little more of my blood. You’re surprisingly sensitive to its other side effect as well.”

“What other side effect?” I am moving my lips simply to distract him at this point.

“You know what I mean. I can feel it when you fantasize and dream about me. Last night you had a dream in which you invited me into your home. Was it so bad?”

He suddenly appears before me—and I have to stop walking so as not to run into him. He can move fast—faster than I can see—and silently. Like a deadly predator. I certainly feel something radiating from his body. Desire, lust, the urge to kill.

“_Don’t_,” I whisper.

“Or… do you _like_ it when I take you outside? Do you love being taken under the night sky? Are you thrilled by the prospect of someone seeing you losing your mind in pleasure? Like you were today—when you didn’t call for help in the restroom?”

I bristle up and growl deep in my throat, my fangs bared and my claws drawn.

“Fuck you! You heard my refusal!”

“And you heard my little deal. Had you called out for help—in _any_ way—I would have stopped. Come to think of it, you didn’t really call out for help last night, either.”

“There was no one there! And I _begged_ you to stop—”

“My little fae, there’s protesting and there’s unwillingness. I’ve never met a creature more willing than you. In fact, all evening I’ve been dreaming about that willingness.”

“Stop it,” I murmur. “I wasn’t—”

“You _were_. And you _are_.” His words sound so very final and decided. “So let’s make another deal.”

“_No_. No more deals.”

“So you do recognize you chose what happened to you tonight, don’t you?”

“N-no—”

“Let me walk you home. Then you can invite me inside. Or…”

“Or what?” I am nervous now—more than nervous, I think, but it’s hard to tell with as aroused as my body is. I am sweating profusely and my mind is racing. All I can think about is how nice that rough tongue and his soft lips felt around my dick just a few hours ago—and my gods! What is _wrong_ with me? I _never_ spend so much time thinking about sex! I’m appalled and disgusted with myself.

“Or I can fuck you senseless out on your porch where the entire world will hear the sexy sound of your voice begging for mercy.”

My fur ruffles and a feeling like hot lava spills into my veins. It’s as if my blood is responding to this silver cat—and I can’t do a damned thing to resist him. My body is betraying me again!

“Move,” I say softly, but I push him aside—or try to. It’s like pushing at a brick wall. So instead, I walk around him.

“Back to your house it is.”

“What do you _want_ from me?” I ask softly. I try to keep the fear out of my voice, but I’m sure I can hear it trembling.

“You know what I want.”

“I don’t. Didn’t you already take what you wanted yesterday? And earlier tonight?”

“Kitten. Vampires only ever want _one_ thing.”

“Blood? Sex? What?”

“Life. We want to see the sun—the source of all living things. I’ve been a vampire for a millennium and I haven’t seen anything like the sun in all this time. And you… the sun shines through you. It shines in your blood.”

“Shouldn’t it kill you, then? I thought you were vulnerable to the sun.”

“As a whole, yes. But you also thought we were vulnerable to silver.” I can feel his gaze resting on my necklace again. “It’s adorable you thought that pretty necklace would discourage me. Makes me want to get you a collar to mark you as mine. But I can feel your desire—even right now, walking next to you. I can smell it. You want me.”

“I _don’t_!” I cry out, turning to look at him and stopping in my tracks. “I don’t want anything to do with you!”

“And now, you so sweetly protest while I’m right before you—smelling like this, giving me this look.”

“I’m not giving you any look!!”

“You are, though. I can see the desire in your eyes. You want me to touch you—you want me to drink from you. You want me to fuck you.”

Shivering violently—in both disgust and desire—I shrink back from him.

“I want it, too. I want you. But let me come in this time, kitten. I want to care for you afterward, make sure you aren’t so sore this time. It will be even more pleasurable for you this evening. Let me show you how you make me feel. You won't have to lift a finger...”

“Just stop—”

“Why must you resist your desire? Even _that_ is tempting and alluring, kitten.”

This cat is _dangerous_. I have to do something or he is going to rape me again.

“No! That is all you! I didn’t _ask_ to be raped!”

“Raped?” His eyelashes flutter slightly, as though he is really surprised. His voice lowers and I can hear his purr laced with in the next few words. “Is _that_ what you want? You want me to _rape_ you?”

“No! Don’t! Please…”

“See, so tell me: why does your body act exactly opposite of your words? Even it betrays your desire and your lust.”

He leans down and licks my ears—it’s loud and squishy—and gods, it feels so good! A shiver courses down my spine and fluffs up my tail.

“I don’t want this…” I protest, but it’s so half-hearted I don’t think even I would believe it if I heard another cat repeat the same words in this tone.

“Invite me inside.”

“No.”

We’ve arrived at my house. I take my key out of my front pocket—and my fingers are trembling, which makes it even more difficult to get into my tight-fitting jeans.

“Invite me inside and let me make love to you. I want to taste you, hear you, lick you…”

“Stop it!” I yell. “Please—I said _no_!”

“Yet your body still says yes. It knows its master.”

“I am my _own_ master!”

I don’t like how his pale blue eyes shimmer with lust and excitement. I’m _scared_. I drop my key I’m shaking so much, and he leans down to pick it up.

“Allow me.” He inserts the key in the lock—and that alone, when he glances up at me suggestively, is enough to make my cock drip. “Ah. I thought you’d understand the metaphor. _Invite me in_.”

“No,” I hiss, pushing on the doorknob and trying to scurry inside. But he grabs my tail and pulls me back out to the porch. I cry in fear and pain—but my body feels like it’s gone soft and liquid on the inside, my pulse throbbing in my ears.

“We can do it right here if you prefer.”

He pulls me down to the steps of my porch, forcing me roughly against the stairs. He takes my lips, and I try to bite him—but he digs his claws into the scruff of my neck. It paralyzes me—and makes a bolt of dread flood my body.

“N-no… _please_…”

“Keep begging, my little fae. I _adore_ the sound of your voice and the taste of your tears.”

I push against him with both my hands on his chest—and I can feel the silver ring getting hot against his shirt. The smell of burning flesh fills my nose.

“You’re still wearing the silver ring? How precious. I _love_ a little resistance. But wouldn’t you be more comfortable in a bed than on your front steps? Anyone can see you here.”

Faster than I can process, my body is flipped over, and I am bent over at the waist, my drawn claws dig into the top step of the porch. He is brushing his claws through my tail and fumbling at the button and zipper of my jeans.

“No! I don’t _want_ this!”

“Then fight me off. Bite me and get away.” His tone is low and teasing, but I can feel lust crackling like electricity between us. “You know, it will be much more pleasant for you if you just relax. And even better with something soft beneath your body, too—but I guess you _like_ it rough, feral little kitten you are.”

I’m bitten—the scruff of my neck—I feel his fangs sinking in, and I scream in fright and fear—just for a second or two. Then, an overwhelming peaceful feeling fills my heart and body. It’s as if that bite is making me come undone.

“Please…” And now I’m not even sure what I’m begging for.

“I am at your disposal.”

“Then please…” I try to ask him to let me go, but I can’t. It’s as if my mouth won’t form the words. A tear slips down my cheek and is licked immediately. Suddenly I know what I need to do. “Not here. Please, come inside my home. You’re welcome.”

The tall silver cat perks up his ears and smiles, satisfied. He scoops me up from the ground and carries me inside, then places me on the floor and resumes his rough kissing. It feels amazing, but I can’t do this with him again. And so I open my mouth.

“Rai, I rescind your invitation.”

He glares up at me—angry at first, then a look of confusion mixed with hurt on his face. But sure enough, it _works_. He glides out of the front door as though by magic, leaving me alone inside. I close the door in his face—though, oddly, it wounds me to see him looking so upset.

“Kitten—don’t do this…”

“You’ve taken all you are going to take from me today. _Leave_.” I try to keep my voice firm, but the tears make me sound uncertain.

“I could _help_ you. Let me help you. I know this isn’t what you really desire—”

“You have _no_ idea what I want or what I need,” I interrupt. “Haven’t you done enough to me today?!”

“I’ve done nothing to you that you didn’t desire. I could feel it—”

“I said _no_!” I yell at the door. “Please. Just go!”

I stand inside the door, listening, and I hear him pacing impatiently. And then it gets very quiet. Hopefully, he’s gone now.

I peek through the peephole and _no_. He’s still there, waiting. His fangs are bared and he looks… sad. It makes something in my chest lurch around uncomfortably. But I won’t help him. He's already helped himself, and I will not ingest anything else from him—not his blood or _anything_ else.

He’s dangerous. I wonder if this is going to be my life now. Will he stalk me at work every night? How long will he persist?

“Go home. Take care of your vampire bar or your vampire sheriff business,” I murmur, as I watch him through the door. He approaches the door, and he’s either purring or growling.

“I can wait. As long as it takes, kitten. I’ll wait for you.”

A shiver crawls up my spine when I hear him whisper those words—it’s as though he can actually see me through the door.

For now, though, I’m safe here alone in my home. I take a deep breath and walk to my shower, trying to rinse the day from me, trying not to think about the dreams I will have tonight or about what I will do about him tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Rai's POV. He's amazingly frustrated after Konoe rescinds his invitation and angry that he fell for the trick. He is also thinking of ways to get around the "invitation" process. And he figures something out.
> 
> Soon, the fae kitten will realize his mistake and learn what happens when you piss off an ancient vampire...

Frustration. Rage and fury. Loneliness.

An odd mix of feelings I haven’t felt in a long time is bubbling through my body as I stand outside on the kitten’s porch.

I was _sure_ he’d relented when he finally invited me in. His home is warm and cozy and small, just like he is—and smells of sunshine. His scent covers the place. I wanted to push him down in his bed and make him come completely undone. I want his voice whispering, sighing, moaning in my ears.

And he rescinded my invitation, slamming the door in my face! I can't believe I fell for his trick. I should have fucked him on the porch while I had my hands on him.

He actually thinks he can _reject_ me!

I still don’t believe it. As I stand outside the door, like some lovestruck teenager, I struggle to get myself under control. There has to be a way around his stubbornness. I’ve already had a taste of him this evening, but my body craves more—I want his blood. I want _all_ of his body. And I don’t want to wait for his mood to change.

I know he wants me. His body responded to me—even before I walked him home. I felt his arousal and attraction in the restroom—not my favorite place for sexual relations, but it works in a pinch. In retrospect, I should have just fucked him against the bar—right in front of the old man—to make a point. That surely would have changed his mind.

However, I didn’t—I _restrained_ myself. I _held_ _back_. I wanted to treasure his innocence a little longer, see for myself how he will change and grow in the bedroom on his own—and I mean _in_ the bedroom, not outside in the forest or on the front steps. I’d take him back to my place if I thought I could get him to go there—and I will by force if I need to. I just was positive I could get him to invite me in.

How can I get around this…?

In addition to my annoyance with being left out in the cold, I think about the old tiger he works for. It was on a whim that I stopped by the bar a few weeks ago, and the old man hasn’t changed at all. I wonder if the fae kitten knows that his employer is a lot more like me than he realizes. Has he ever seen him in the daylight? How could he _not_ notice?

Of course, the old man was surprised to see me, and even more surprised to discover my latest business venture at Fangtasia. Over the many years of my life, I’ve done many, many things—and I have made a lot of money and very few friends along the way. Right now—in this time and age, I don’t have anyone I’d consider a friend, really. It’s the cost of doing smart business, I suppose.

The old man was displeased to see me—and I understand why. If he’s been indulging in the kitten’s scent for an entire year, and the kitten doesn’t understand that the old tiger is also a vampire, of course, he’d be frustrated.

After I sat down in the fae’s section, I couldn’t take my eyes off him, watching his lithe form slipping in between the chairs even while carrying a tray of drinks or food—that kitten moves like his feet don’t touch the ground. When he walked past me, I could smell sunshine in his fur—mixed with honey and wheat. In the way he moved, and then the light of those golden eyes, framed with long lashes and projecting confidence, he made my mouth water.

I felt my fangs bare the moment he stopped at my table—and I didn’t bother hiding them. He seemed slightly surprised by my appearance, startled perhaps by the size of my fangs, but there was no doubt that he knew what I was. Perhaps I didn’t miss his admiring little glance sliding down my impressive figure before he took my order. He is friendly, obedient, and sweet—and that voice is as magical as his scent.

Even that first night—I could tell there was something different about him. As a vampire, my senses are much keener than a regular cat’s. My eyesight is better, my scent of smell is more exact—I can sense ill intentions from Ribika who have heavy emotion running through their bodies.

While I sensed nothing but light—and purity—from the kitten, I sensed ill intentions from many of those surrounding him—cats wanting to fuck him, a few who wanted to knock him down a peg or two for him brushing off their advances. And still, the emotion rolling off in his body in waves was _trust_—and sunlight.

When he brought me my drink, he met my gaze and smiled broadly—even after knowing what I was. He was trusting—or perhaps naive—in thinking I wouldn’t try to glamor him and make him into my slave. In some ways, owning that kitten as a slave would sate my desires for the rest of my life, I think. I feel magnetically attracted to his blood. Perhaps I will make him one of us.

He paid me little mind—aside from the sweet courtesy you’d expect from a place like this. And I watched the old tiger from behind the bar, studying the air following the kitten as he walked, narrowing his eyes at me. He had such gall to do such a thing—and the thought that old man might make the kitten an offer was too much. I need to put that tiger back down where he belongs, and I will if he touches my fae.

I pace on the front porch for a while, trying not to think about how close I was to having him tonight, and I hear him approaching the door. I am still feeling strangely hurt by his rejection. It’s an incredibly unfamiliar sensation. I don’t understand why he is fighting his obvious desire and feelings for me.

“Go home. Take care of your vampire bar or your vampire sheriff business.” His soft voice floats through the door, crystal clear, sinking right into my heart. My body responds with a loud purr.

“I can wait. As long as it takes, kitten. I’ll wait for you.”

Then, I hear him walk away and the shower switches on. What I wouldn’t give to share a shower with him, sweeping him off his feet, holding him in my arms, showering him with kisses under the flowing water, tasting him…

If it were my home, I could do whatever I liked to him.

If it were _my_ home…

Wait a minute. Maybe it _can_ be my home. I have money and connections. I could buy the land right out from under him. Due to the improvements Ransen is hoping to make, the city is actively seeking investors for small and dilapidated properties in the area. I could buy the land as an investment.

My heart lifts a little and my frustration dissolves as I head back to town. On my way, I contact my lawyer, who picks up on the first ring. I mention that I’d like to buy a piece of land, and he says he can help me.

I hang up feeling even more relief and head to his office.

The fae kitten’s house is in his name, but as I suspected, offer enough money to government officials (under the guise of “improvements,” of course) and plenty are willing to sell the land out from under it. I do—and it’s a bargain, my lawyer informs me. The sale will go through in 48 hours, so I arrange the finances to be transferred.

Until then, I have to make do with what little I can get from the kitten. I can ambush him at work, threaten his boss if he gets in my way. And yes, the option of fucking him in front of the tiger is still open. But there’s no way I can leave him alone.

For now, though, once the paperwork is signed and sealed, I go back to Fangtasia to take care of business. I expect to see that baby vampire there—and sure enough, he makes an embarrassed appearance, all apologies and quivering with fear.

One of the servers and an occasional dancer is an older vampire I’ve known for about a century. She's is a medium-build female with green eyes and auburn hair named Mana and she approaches me. She might be the closest thing I have to a friend these days.

“What have you been doing with all your time? And my gods, what’s that lovely scent? It smells delicious! Do you find yourself some new prey? It’s not like you to be going out at all hours of the night.”

“Actually, I’ve met someone. You’ve probably already heard.”

“I think I have. I believe you have been hounding others of our kind to keep their hands off him. I heard he’s a waiter over at the old tiger’s bar. Has he come out yet, by the way?”

“He hasn’t. But I plan to out him to his staff and clientele if he touches my prey.”

“Oh? Competition? Should I check him out, too?”

I chuckle softly. Mana knows better than to mess with me and so she jokes about it.

“Really, though. I never remember you being quite so defensive about prey before. You take them or leave them, and you have so many options. And your line of admirers has only grown while you’ve been out. All manner of cats is waiting for you—freely offering you their blood and their bodies.”

“Hmm.” Usually, I’d take my choice cat or cats back to the bedroom with me, but since I’ve laid hands on the fae kitten and had his blood, I haven’t really gotten much satisfaction from anyone else. I haven’t even had the desire. All I can think about is the kitten. In fact, bottled synthetic blood is as satisfactory to me as anything else—and much less effort. “I think I’d like some time alone.”

“Seriously? Are you _exclusive_? My gods! I never thought I’d see the day!”

“He’s somewhat… resistant.”

“What do you mean? Can’t you glamor him?”

How much to tell her—that’s another story. Surely she will find out soon enough that he can’t be hypnotized. But maybe that’s a tale for another day.

“I want him to want me. On his own.”

“Why? Is he seeing someone else? That’s so weird. You have all these others interested in you. Maybe he needs to see how popular you are, and he will up his game. He must be something special, though, if he can capture your attention this way.”

“He is.”

“Well, I’m pleased for you. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he gives himself to you, heart, soul, and body. Have a good night! Let me know if I can send anyone up to you. I have excellent taste and can smell your type from a mile away.”

“Thank you.”

I head downstairs to my suite. It’s quiet here—soundproof in both directions so I can handle my prey how I like and maintain privacy. I flop down on my bed—it’s covered in luxurious silk sheets that usually feel nice against my skin, but compared to the kitten’s fur…

I feel giddy—like I cannot wait to surprise the kitten in his own home two days from now. I wonder if I can speed up the sale of the property. But perhaps I will wait—trying not to let him see me watch him and stalk him—and take him by complete surprise.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe's POV--after he manages to trick the vampire.
> 
> This is a pretty angsty chapter and has references to erotic dreams and masturbation.

After showering—I take extra time when I clean my skin, hoping to scrub away some of that scent Rai has mentioned—I crawl into bed, exhausted and oddly aroused. The pleasure I felt in the bathroom was pretty amazing but still, I’m not sure what to think about our interaction.

I know I didn’t want it—at the time, however, I sure enjoyed the touch and sensation. It’s utterly confusing. And when I finally manage to drift off to sleep, I have another dream.

This time I find myself in a dark room—shackled to the ceiling and naked. My spine is crawling with fear and my body is extremely aroused. I know that Rai is in the room with me, but I can’t see him. I can feel him—but I can’t see anything. I know he’s going to do something to me, and I hear begging and pleading sounds flooding the space.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His silky soft voice pierces the darkness like a blade. “You _asked_ for this. You _asked_ me to take you this way.”

I’m shuddering with both fright and longing, and I want the touch of his fingers on my skin.

“Please…”

My whole body shakes violently when his fingers touch my chest, playing gently with my left nipple—and I feel something soft and warm encircling the right one. He’s taking me into his mouth, and his sharp fangs graze my skin, but I want more.

I’m pulled roughly against his chest and a hand palms my groin roughly, stroking me from hilt to tip, making me sigh and moan.

I lift up my chin—sensing the vampire’s presence in front of me. It’s as if my body is offering itself to him.

My chains clank loudly in my ears when I’m spun around, and my forehead is pressed quickly but gently against the wall, my arms still suspended overhead. I still can’t see anything, but in addition to the cool damp scent of the wall, my nose is flooded with the smell of fresh rain.

A wet tongue caresses my nape, pushing my hair aside, licking from my neck to my shoulder, as though tasting me. I purr loudly, arching my body back, pushing against the silver cat—he is still wearing jeans, I think, but I can feel his erection pressing against my ass through the fabric. And I hear the clinking of a belt and the soft sound of a fly being undone. And then I feel him, pressing up against my ass, right beneath my tail, which is gently stroked with sharp claws.

He is gliding his dripping erection between my cheeks, nudging my entrance ever so gently while gripping the base of my tail and yanking it up with small, firm motions. I can hardly stand the teasing, and I continue my incoherent begging cries.

“Tell me what you want.”

Even in my dream, heat floods my ears and cheeks, and his lips move up to one of my ears suddenly, as though he can feel the blood pulsing through them. He licks it, delving deep inside, continuing to stroke my erection and my tail, and I arch back against him even more.

When I lift my chin and turn my head, I feel his lips on my neck, and I know he’s about to bite me—and he sinks in his fangs and thrusts deep into my body—in one fast, glorious moment—

I wake screaming—but I think it may be a pleasured cry, since once again I have cum all over myself, all over my sheets, in my bed. Damn it. More laundry! And what am I going to do with myself?

My body is betraying me. More than anything, my mind is filled with images of the silver vampire, and I want him to touch me, tease me, fuck me—even take me against my will. It’s frightening and I don't understand any of this.

I can hear his voice echoing in my head, “Is _that_ what you want? You want me to _rape_ you?” And I don’t know anymore. Maybe I _do_ want it…

That’s just crazy!

At any rate, it’s only 2 AM according to my clock, so I get up to grab myself a glass of milk. On the way to the kitchen area, I pass the front door and peek out. No one is there—at least, not that I can see. At last, he’s left.

A small shudder tickles the base of my tail—and it sends a fresh burst of arousal through me—though this should be impossible after that dream and what has been going on the past few days. My lower half fills with blood. Why am I fantasizing about him? I can’t stop thinking about the silver cat—and _why_?

I heat up the milk on the stove, hoping it will help me sleep. I add a little honey and lavender while I’m at it. It shimmers on the stove—almost a silver color, I can’t help noticing—and it looks oddly enticing. It reminds me of the color of his fur...

I need to just stop. Clear my mind—block out my own thoughts. Usually, my home is a peaceful place, a welcome respite from the thoughts assaulting me at work, and so I am highly irritated that I can’t even enjoy a little peace here on my own.

There’s no one here. I don’t need to be afraid. I just need to be sure not to get caught alone with him again—and once more, when I think about being alone with Rai, another shiver ruffles through my fur—and I’m sure now that the response isn’t fear. Frighteningly, it’s _arousal_. As if I _want_ to be caught alone with him! What is wrong with me? Is that just from ingesting his blood?

I can’t do this.

Once the milk gets to a simmer, I pour it in a mug and sit down in on the sofa. I try to clear my mind—trying to relax and get back in the mood to sleep. I happen to glance over at my bed—my sheets are a mess—and another strange burst of arousal floods me. I want… I want to touch myself, I think.

For now, the feeling of desire bothers me too much. I ignore it. Or I try my best to ignore it, but I can’t.

As soon as I finish my milk, I leave the mug on the coffee table for the morning, and I crawl back into bed. Once there—when I close my eyes—I smell a scent like fresh rain—but there’s nothing here that belongs to Rai. So what is this? He was in my house for a minute at the very most, so this must be my imagination. My heart races when I think about it.

What if I _hadn’t_ rescinded his invitation? Once he got me in the house, his kisses became much softer—less rough—and I wonder which I preferred? The rough urgency of the kissing out on the porch or the soft, tender ones inside? Do I indeed, as he suggested, like it rough?

My dreams are making me think that might be the case. I think carefully about the dream that just woke me. I was in a dungeon—a dark cellar, I think—and probably only because Bardo mentioned it. That has to be it!

Come to think of it, why is Bardo so concerned with what I do, anyway? I mean, even after that... first incident with Rai, I haven’t been giving him any problems—I don’t think I messed up anyone’s order and I was only lagging a little during the first part of the evening… and that was before Rai gave me more of his blood in the restroom.

He did that thing—he was on his knees in front of me—and the memory makes my entire body sweat. What if… what if I were restrained, like in my dream, and he did that?

My eyes drift closed and my mind wanders, getting deeper and deeper into my fantasy. My arms are restrained overhead—heavy chains attached to the ceiling—and I’m in my underwear. He’s playing with the waistband, pulling my boxers up a little more snugly around my hips and ass, playing with my tail gently, then he drops to his knees.

I can clearly see his pale blue eyes staring up at me—they glitter in the darkness—filled with desire, passion, and hunger—_real_ hunger. He wants to _devour_ me—I can feel it—and that is his aim.

But instead of biting the inside of my thigh as he did before, he pulls the waistband of my underwear down and licks me from hilt to tip. It feels so good—sending shuddering waves of pleasure through my hips and back, bristling my fur. I can hear that soft growling purr spilling from his body—it reminds me of what baby kittens do when they are first learning to eat on their own, as though to discourage anyone else from taking away their prey.

In this case,_ I_ am his prey.

And I _love_ the feeling.

When I imagine his lips sinking around my cock, his tongue stroking me in his mouth, the feel of the rumbling purr against the back of his throat, my arousal gets so great I feel almost nauseated. My stomach lurches and my spine straightens—and suddenly, my vision flashes white and I am spilling my passion into the palm of my hand, gasping out loud in vulgar sighs.

I let my hand fall to my side and release the tip of my tail from my left hand, letting my arms fall flat on the bed. I’m flooded with relaxation and relief—as well as the image of his face—those blue eyes, those sharp fangs. I wipe the cum from my hand and body with the sheet I’ve already ruined, sighing.

What is happening to me?

I don’t understand. I need to get myself under better control. I feel utterly obscene and undisciplined. I don’t know what to do. A soft sobbing breath escapes my lips as I turn to my side in bed and cover myself with a blanket. It’s still autumn, so the weather has still been pretty mild. It’s not that cold in my house yet, so I still have my summer sheets on the bed.

I do eventually drift back to sleep—and much to my annoyance, I have _another_ dream. This one involves the silver cat fucking me—or just about to fuck me—on the front porch of my own home. He’s whispering he will let me go if I just invite him inside—that he will show me more tenderness than I can imagine—but if what I want is to be _raped_, then he will oblige.

I wake up again after I come—just at the point he is about to enter me—irritated that I now I have to wash my blankets as well. Also, my balls ache terribly. No cat should be having this much sex—well, I’m not really, I suppose, but it can’t be healthy to come so many times within such a short period.

I turn over and sleep in the messy sheets, deciding to deal with them in the morning. And I do finally get some dreamless sleep.

The next morning, I’m relieved when the rays from the moon of light shine in through my window. I’ve been longing for something to protect me from that crazy-ass vampire, and the sun looks like my best bet.

I don’t sleep as late as usual since I have laundry to do. My washer and dryer work just fine, but they take a while. I want to make sure my blankets and sheets are dry before I get home from work.

It’s dusk when I head into work.

Once I start my shift, I start to notice something about the guests. I can tell if it’s a vampire when he or she walks in the door. They have a strange, glowing aura around their bodies, like a halo. I think I saw this last night, too—after the incident in the restroom—but tonight it’s even more pronounced.

And I am watching carefully for tonight’s appearance of the silver cat. Though I am worried about how I will handle him, it almost feels like my body _wants_ him to appear. Like part of me is longing for him, almost aching for him.

But I don’t want to acknowledge that.

I seat another vampire and his companion and then head back to the dining room window to pick up an order that’s ready for another table. Bardo is standing there, under the lights like he does every night, and he smiles at me when I grab the steaming plates.

Suddenly, I realize that _he_ has the same aura as the vampires I’ve been noticing. I am startled beyond belief—unable to make the connection in my head. It has to be my imagination—there's just no way—and yet... he's definitely glowing. I trip over my feet when I turn around too quickly and drop one of the plates, spilling it on the floor.

“Oy, Konoe! Are you all right?”

“Uh—um—I’m s-sorry—I’ll, um, be right back!”

I leave the other plate on the counter and rush off to the restroom again. I lock myself in a stall, feeling utterly sick to my stomach. 

Bardo is a vampire?! Has he been one this entire time? Is that how he knew Rai had been touching me? He could smell him?

Wait. I’ve been working for a vampire?! And he lied to me about it?! 

My entire body is trembling and I’m not sure what to do with myself. I feel like I might be sick, but I don’t have anything in my stomach. And why does the thought of Bardo being a vampire seem so disconcerting to me?

I think I may be having a panic attack. I feel very claustrophobic in the stall, but I’m afraid to leave it. What should I do?

Then, I hear the door open—so I stifle the sounds I’ve been trying to silence.

“Konoe?”

It’s Bardo. He’s in here with me.

“Oy, Konoe? Are you all right? Did you get burned? Are you sick?”

There’s a soft knock on the stall door.

“I know you're in there.”

I bet he does. He can probably smell me—that scent that Rai warned me about. Is that why I’m working here? Is that why he is paying me? Is he hoping for my blood, too?

“Oy. Talk to me. Did something happen?”

“Um, I’m fine,” I say, and my voice most definitely does not sound fine. It sounds like I’ve been crying. And I have. I wipe my tears quickly, ashamed of myself.

“It’s all right. It was just a plate. It’s no big deal. I’ve already remade the dish. It’s no big deal. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I’m not!” I snap loudly—irritatedly—from behind the door.

Bardo is very quiet for a moment. A strange, heavy aura fills the air—and I can’t hear his thoughts. Of course, I can’t. He’s a vampire. He hasn’t been trying to hide them, he hasn’t learned any special skills for my sake. He’s been lying to me!

“You’re such a hypocrite!” I snarl from behind the door, unable to contain my anger. Why wouldn’t he tell me something like that? Why… unless he was deliberately trying to hide who he was from me? Or unless he had ulterior motives? Like, for example, he wanted to taste my blood. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice earlier.”

Still—only heavy silence from behind the door. It feels dangerous, too. I feel utterly shaken—to my core—and my fur fluffs out. Is he going to drain me, now that I know?

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why were you hiding… what you were from me?” I whisper.

“… Konoe.”

“You never once thought of me as your son, did you? What? You wanted my blood?! Just like everyone else? You were just waiting for the right time?” I growl low in my throat—but truthfully, I’m much more frightened than angry. I am still wearing the silver ring and I repaired the silver necklace, too. I grip it tightly in my hand. “You wanted to fuck me, too, didn’t you?”

“…”

“I quit!” It’s impulsive. I know I can’t quit. I have no other source of income, and I need something to pay my bills. But I won't work for a liar!

“… Look, Konoe, it’s not like that—”

“Then tell me! Why would you hide something like this from me?!”

Bardo sighs heavily. And then there’s a loud bang on the door of the stall—and it frankly scares the shit out of me. 

“Come out of there and we’ll talk. It's pointless to talk through a door.”

“Get _away_ from me! Leave me _alone_! I quit!” My fear is rising fast, and I realize I am trapped in here.

“Konoe, stop acting like a child and come out or I will break down this door!” His voice lowers to a growl, and it frightens me even more than the silver cat ever has.

My fangs bare, my claws draw—and he bangs again. I think he really might break down the door!

Then the door to the hallway creaks open—and I can tell Bardo is still there, he hasn't gone anywhere—and I hear him release a loud growl.

“What do you think you’re doing to my prey?”

I recognize the silky smooth voice in an instant—its calm and neutral tone, despite the force of his words—and then that irresistible clean scent floods my nose.

“You’ve given him your _blood_?” Bardo is not really asking—and I can’t tell if he’s addressing me or Rai. But he sounds furious—_irate_. “You have _no_ idea what you’ve started.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Rai returns. “That kitten is mine. I’m sure you have no doubt about it now.”

“…”

How did Rai know to come here? And why do I feel such relief to hear his voice? My breathing quiets—and I feel a sense of peace and safety.

“Kitten, you can unlock the door. You’re safe now. Come with me.”

I do—like I am automatically obeying him. I unlock the door—and warmth fills my chest (inexplicably, I will remember later) when I lay eyes on the silver cat. He’s dressed in black—black jeans, a black tee-shirt, a black coat that looks slightly too heavy for the season—but utterly dramatic.

“Did you discover anything new about your boss? Perhaps—if you’ve been working for a vampire who selfishly lied about who he was for so long—perhaps you’re ready for a different sort of employer.”

“I quit,” I repeat quietly to Bardo as I pass him, careful not to touch him on my way out. I take Rai’s hand and let him lead me out of the bathroom. I do want to know why Bardo would hide something like that from me—for so long. Does he find me untrustworthy? Is there some other reason? It makes my heart ache.

“Konoe—where are you going?” One of the kitchen helpers and occasional bartender, Gen, calls out to me as I head out the back.

“I quit.”

It isn’t until I get outside that I fully catch my breath again. And then—I realize I am following Rai obediently down the street, letting him guide me, letting him take my arm gently in his, letting his fingers stroke mine. I’ve willingly accompanied the vampire out of here. What am I _doing_?!

But my legs won’t stop walking. My heart feels weird—heavy and light at the same time—and my ears close up—the thoughts of the other cats around me disappear, and I feel like I might faint. That would be deadly—wouldn’t it?

However, my panic seizes me again in full force. The world I thought I knew—the place I thought I was safe—suddenly… I realize how dangerous it has been. I don’t have a safe place to go anymore! What should I do?!

M breath starts to pick up and my heart thumps loudly in my ear, and I notice the silver cat’s softly rounded ears twitch when my pulse increases. Can he hear my heartbeat? Oh, my gods. How good is his hearing?!

“Kitten. It’s all right. You’re safe now.” His voice sounds beautiful and dangerous, tempting and frightening, and it seeps right into my heart.

Safe?! That’s the last thing I am! He’s a fucking vampire—and he… he raped me! And here I am, wandering down the night streets on his arm as a lover might!

Not only that—but those dreams I had last night… maybe I did want it? Maybe I asked for it? And my gods! I swallow roughly, trying to get my thoughts and panic under control.

“Take a deep breath. You’re safe with me. Nothing is going to happen to you. He can’t hurt you if you’re by my side.”

I stop walking suddenly—my legs suddenly freeze up and my knees lock. I can feel sweat all over my body, dripping between my ears—it feels chilly in the evening breeze. And the pale blue eyes stare down at me, pupils narrowed to slits. I don’t miss it when I see his tongue lick his lips and his nostrils flare.

I am the prey.

I can’t run, I can’t hide—I can’t fight. All I feel is fear and I freeze. My body goes numb and my eyes go grey around the edges.

“Oy!”

His voice sounds very far away—and my consciousness slips from my grasp. I faint—right there in the street—collapsing under the stress and strain of the evening—leaving myself utterly vulnerable to the silver cat at my side.

But even that knowledge doesn’t rouse me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai's POV--he has Konoe right where he wants him.
> 
> This chapter may be disturbing to some of my regular readers. Rai is a vampire here, and he takes what he likes. Consent does not play a role in this relationship--despite what Konoe's actions are. Rai's attitude is somewhat inflated--but he is an old vampire, after all. Just... reader beware.

He’s asleep—or passed out, which is basically the same thing—in my bed. He's leaving his scent on my pillow and in my sheets.

_The fae kitten is in my bed._

I can’t restrain my excitement, nor do I resist the urge to take advantage of our current situation. When he collapsed on the street, I caught him before he hit the ground. Perhaps because the world he knew has been ripped away from beneath his feet—and soon, he won’t even have a safe haven in his own home. He won't have a choice except to submit to me. I can hardly wait. After carrying him back to Fangtasia—noticing the leers, twitching noses, dilated pupils, and bristled fur of many guests—I skipped my usual business and let Mana know I’d be occupied for the evening. Even she seemed infatuated by the creature in my arms. He radiates—gleams—with sunshine and life in a way no other Ribika I have ever seen.

After bringing him downstairs to my suite, I stripped him bare before tucking him in bed. I didn’t forget to remove his necklace and ring, either. He won’t be needing his clothes. Now, he is taking too long to wake, and so I feel I should simply take advantage of his current lack of resistance.

Pulling the blankets from around his body, the warmth of his skin is irresistible and enticing. I examine his body—the bite marks I left on the inside of his thigh two nights ago. They are only slightly bruised—and the mark I’ve left is quite sexy against his creamy skin. When I lower my nose to the mark, I close my eyes and let his scent flood my nostrils. He smells so nice—even his scent gives me a gentle buzzing sensation and makes my mouth water.

Generally, I prefer my prey awake and actively participating, but as things stand, I don’t think I want to wait for that. Although, there is something making me hesitate. I glance up at his sleeping face—peaceful and young and perfect—and my chest is stabbed with a strange emotion, the same emotion that has been plaguing me since I first helped myself to him two nights ago. It’s _irritating_.

I sigh softly and lick the inside of his thigh. He startles, his body jerking in surprise. It’s strange, really, since he showed no sign of waking when I stripped him earlier. But my tongue wakes him. Interesting.

“Ah. You’ve come back to me.”

All his fur bristles at once, and his pupils dilate fully—it’s dim in here, but not completely dark. I recognize the look in his eyes as a mix of fear and desire—a heady scent of lust wafts around his body, and he’s erect again. The stamina of this young creature is somewhat astounding—even to a vampire as old as myself.

“You know, I can feel you—your emotions. It’s how I knew to come to you at the old man’s inn.”

“You knew? You knew he was a vampire?” He sounds breathless and helpless—and irresistible. Yet the nagging feeling won’t go away in my chest. It’s irksome.

“I know all the vampires in the area. You’ve worked for him, what? A year? He’s only been in Ransen for the past decade, I think. He will soon have to either come out of the coffin or move on, as he has been doing for the past two centuries.”

“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”

“Don’t you mean, why didn’t _he_ tell you? Why do you think, kitten?”

“He wanted something from me. I could feel it.”

“You do remember what I told you—about the thing vampires long for with their entire beings? He kept you by his side because you radiate with light and life. Yes. He wanted something from you. I’m surprised he hasn’t taken you by force.”

“Like you did?” He glares down at me, golden eyes sparkling with power. I’m a little surprised to hear him talking to me this way, and I'm enchanted.

“You think I took you by force?”

“You did! You… you _raped_ me! Out there in the woods! You took my blood and my v-” he stammers cutely here, losing some of the power he started with, “erm, m-my first time without my consent!”

“And what about in the restroom yesterday? Was that _also_ without your consent?” I growl softly. “I gave you a chance to get away—I would have gladly released you had you called for help. I heard nothing of the sort."

"..."

"What? Do you have feelings for the old tiger? Perhaps that’s why you didn’t call for help? You didn’t wish to tell him what happened and how I made you feel?”

His ears flatten fiercely—and his little aggressive stance is sending a bolt of desire through my hips that I cannot deny. I lick my lips, smirking slightly, then continue.

“I can feel your dreams, too. I can feel your desire. Last night… _three_ times? Even _after_ our little restroom visit? I'm impressed, little kitten.”

A gorgeous pink flush floods the kitten’s cheeks, chest, throat, and ears. I can smell the blood simmering beneath his skin. When he blushes like that—it makes me want his blood even more than I already do. Like his tears—an unwitting invitation. Perhaps he isn’t aware.

“I can smell your blush, kitten. It smells like warmth, life, and honey. It makes me want to bite you.”

A soft growl spills from his lips and he sits up, looking down at his body as though only now realizing he is naked. Adorable! His blush deepens and he stammers quietly—his voice soft and timid now.

“M-my clothes—wh-what are you d-doing to me? Where am I?”

It’s a desperate voice—a _gorgeous_ voice. And it makes me want him all the more. I’ve trapped his lower body on the bed.

“I thought I’d give you a taste of what it could be like working for me.”

“Working for you? As what? Your whore?! Your blood bag? Get off me!” He really does sound like he means it.

“You’re saying you’d rather work for a liar?” I whisper against his skin. He tries to struggle against the weight of my body.

“Get off!”

“I plan to, don’t worry your little head about it, kitten. The question is, how do _you_ want it?”

“I-I d-_don’t_ want it!”

“Oh, but your body is already responding to me. Like you can’t help yourself. You want me _inside_ you, don’t you? You can’t stop thinking about it. But… do you want a little tender loving or shall I take you roughly?” I purr softly.

To my shock, I see tears shimmering in his eyes—and how has he _not_ learned how attractive his tears are to me?! I cannot resist—and I don’t. I lift up my body from where I’m resting on his hips and push his torso back to the bed. I see him shiver when my hair skates over his fair skin and a tear slips out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t want it,” he whispers urgently.

“Don't you?” I lean in to lick the tear from his cheek. It’s sweet and warm and delightful. And I have the perfect idea. “I think you aren’t being truthful. However, tonight, I will oblige. I won’t force you.”

He lets out a soft sigh that is laced with a gentle purr—and that purr is what gives him away. He sounds relieved—yet his erection is pressing against my hips. I think I will tease him a little.

“I won’t force you… but I would like to ascertain the truthfulness of your statement. Just let me know if you change your mind. It will be up to you to decide what it is you want from me, kitten.”

I bury my nose and lips against his throat, and his purr gets louder. My hands travel down his side and his belly, stroking the silky soft fur just beneath his navel. I have never felt so utterly attracted to a creature as this—and everything he does makes him even more attractive.

“W-wait—!”

“Just let me know when you change your mind about telling the truth. You can’t hide your feelings.” I brush my fingers over his cock, and I’m a little surprised to find he is already dripping. How many times in 24 hours? Four? This will be five? Gods. He is _perfect_. All this young innocent horniness is exactly to my taste. His hips jerk up though I barely touch him, and I lick at his throat and kiss along his collarbone.

“Please stop…”

I gently take his shaft in my fingers, feeling the details of his hilt and rim, pressing my thumb gently into his slit and spilling out more precious fluid from him. I am tempted to lick my hand—and I don't resist. I meet his gaze when I bring my hand up to my mouth, letting him watch me lick his precum from my fingers. He shivers—a visceral sensation shoots up his spine. I can see it in how his fur bristles, in how his skin shivers.

“You are _delicious_. Submit yourself to pleasure—I know you want it as much as I do. I can smell it on you.”

“Please…” I can’t help noticing that this protest lacks the power he was expressing earlier, and it dissolves into a soft, helpless sigh. Gods—his voice is so sexy. It makes my hair and fur stand on end.

I reach back down to his cock with my now damp fingers and press my thumb into his slit once more, letting his fluids mix with mine. I sit on his hips for a moment to strip off my shirt overhead and unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants. I move faster than he can process—and a small shudder of fear jerks his body when he sees I’ve taken off some of my clothes. His eyes are glazed over with desire.

Pressing my erection against his—it sends a melting warmth through my hips—I let out a loud purring growl. It sends another shiver up his back and he gasps in pleasure. Our combined warmth is enticing—but again, I won’t let him come unless he _asks_ for it. His arousal is building very quickly—I can see it and feel it and smell it—even hear it in his voice. His heart starts to skip—like it did last night—and he softens his body suddenly.

He is awfully inexperienced. He needs to learn to _prolong_ his pleasure a little, and I am a willing teacher. I squeeze his hilt suddenly, making a loud meow spill from him in protest. His breath comes in soft pants against my chest and I lean in to take his lips while he is dealing with the frustration of not being allowed to climax.

Sure enough, he bites my lip—sinking in sharp little fangs into my lower lip, and it is utterly arousing. I immediately press my lips to his, pushing a few drops of blood onto his tongue. He tries to shake me off, but I pin him down hard, still gripping his hilt firmly. He growls softly and keens in pleasure and frustration.

“Such vulgar moans from you, kitten—it belies the innocent inexperience of your body. Pleasure is best when slightly delayed. Don’t you know this?”

He bristles and glares at me—eyes shining with tears he is unwilling to shed—and my heart lurches in my chest again. _Painfully_. This time, it’s extremely painful—almost as though the look he is giving me is causing this physical tightness around my heart. I think the pain is mixed with something I haven't felt in a long time: fear. But I brush off the emotion as quickly as it comes upon me. There's nothing this kitten could possibly do against a vampire like me.

“You’ve utterly enchanted me, my little liar.”

He growls at me again, his pupils dilated wide, lashes blinking slowly—and his body starts to sweat with lust and eagerness—more than he was experiencing before since he has ingested my blood. I love the influence my blood has on this creature—it makes him glow with a soft halo. And his purr thickens and sounds even wetter. I can’t help smiling as I kiss him again, more gently this time. I touch his top lip and then I nip his bottom lip—playfully, not enough to draw blood. Then I kiss his nose and his chin, which he lifts up in the most enticing manner yet—submissive and soft—I adore it. I want to drink from him—I want to feel my fangs sink into that soft skin halfway between his chin and his sternum. But I postpone my pleasure for a moment, letting my eyes blink softly.

He is purring ridiculously loudly—but as he struggles against me, his resistance changes. He moves his hands away from my chest and to his cock, where he is desperately trying to loosen my grip, prying my hands away from him.

“_Please_,” comes the next breathy plea.

“Please _what_? Have you changed your tune? Decided to become a little more honest with yourself? You will feel _so_ much better,” I purr softly into his bristled ear. Such warmth radiates from the skin and deep inside that fuzzy ear—tempting and delicious. I let my tongue delve deep inside, squishing around loudly and stroking the soft fur. He shivers again—an utterly bewitching sensation—and to my surprise, he doesn’t try to escape the touch. He’s submitting. I lick the shell, the outer edge, and the tip of his ear gently, and I whisper again, “I can feel you submitting to me. Now… just tell me what you want.”

A loud sexy sigh comes from the creature beneath me when I release his hilt and start to stroke him again. He flattens his body against the bed, pushing his back against the mattress, but I can feel his knees trying to bend. I settle myself between his legs and push my erection against his again, stroking us together, using the liquid spilling from him to lubricate us. His eyes drift closed—long, dark lashes—and he purrs and mewls helplessly. The sounds send shivers down my spine and bristle my fur.

However, the moment my tail bristles, he happens to notice it in the corner of his eye and his eyes widen suddenly. His angry gaze has melted into something utterly sexy—utterly enchanting—utterly demanding—something he should not be able to do with his lack of experience. It’s a delightful contrast to the innocent blush on his cheeks.

It isn’t long before I feel his climax approaching again and as before—I stop it quickly by squeezing the base of his cock. He lets out a frustrated moan—and it’s perfectly sexy. I meet his gaze, and he looks desperate and needy—just how I want him.

“Are you sure you’re not ready for a little more honesty? Lying to me does no good when you wear your desire so openly on your expression.”

I see the most subdued nod of his chin, and I raise my eyebrows.

“Yes?”

“Um…”

I don’t say anything, but I do watch him expectantly. His ears deepen in color, and I lean up to kiss them again.

“Please… um… please…”

His soft begging makes that physical strain in my chest pick up once more—throbbing in time to the beat of his heart. For a split second, I feel like I can see actual sunlight shining beneath his skin—and it burns something deep in my soul.

_You have _no_ idea what you’ve started._

The old tiger’s warning echoes in my ears. Is this kitten something dangerous? I know almost nothing about fae—but could he hurt me? Is he currently the source of the ache in my chest? I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to settle myself.

I know what would fix it—just a taste of his blood. I know it would be perfect. It would soothe me like no other elixir. I _need_ it. But I am waiting for his consent.

“Raiiii…”

My ears bristle and my tail lashes when he says my name—just in a soft, gentle tone, and he reaches his hands up to my hair, running his claws through the long strands.

“May I drink from you?” I whisper—my voice is desperate and hoarse—husky and deep. I don’t disguise my lust in the slightest. “Let me drink from you and fuck you till you come completely undone, kitten. You’ll never want to leave this bed.”

Even I am a little surprised at the desperation my tone has taken—I wasn’t intending to hide my desire from him but at the same time, I’m a little shocked at how much I want him—especially when he called my name. It does something to me.

And then I see it—a slight nod of his head. But that wasn’t our agreement. As much as I want to sink my fangs into his soft skin, I resist.

“_Tell_ me. What do you want me to do.” It doesn’t come out as a question—but as a command.

“Ah!” He cries out again when I stroke his cock gently. Then he whispers, “Please—I w-want… I w-want to come…”

He’s so utterly sensitive and overly aroused. I want him more than I have ever wanted another creature. And I will have him—_all_ of him—his blood, his body, his pleasure—he will give it _all_ to me. I can feel my fangs expose and my speech is slightly slurred.

“Will you share your blood?”

He nods, quickly and several times—as though desperate—and I don’t delay. I sink my fangs into the side of his neck, surprising him. His hands come up to my ears, stroking them gently instead of pushing me away, and his body softens underneath mine. He is relaxing into the touch, melting into it—as his sweet blood drips onto my tongue.

Nostalgia floods me—a summer festival dance—twirling robes, cheerful music, the midday sun warming my skin—something magic flows in these veins. And I have to hold back from drinking all of him.

My own body relaxes after drinking from him, but I let my hands creep back down to his hips—one cupping his throbbing cock and the other behind his hips, brushing under his tail. The moment I brush my fingers against his entrance, a soft sexual sound spills from his lips, and his hips lift up. His tail bristles and struggles underneath our combined weight and I pull his legs down roughly for a moment, bending his knees against his chest. I press a single finger deep inside him—while still sipping the sweetness of his blood and stroking his cock—and he purrs loudly and relaxes fully. I feel him shiver underneath my body—and I want to be inside of him.

I slip out of my jeans and underwear—enjoying the feel of his skin against mine. I can feel his pulse against my stomach and against my legs—and I have to stop drinking from him soon or he will be dangerously low. I struggle to stop—and it’s difficult. Part of me wants to eat him alive—but I still want to save him for tomorrow and the day after.

Soft breathy pants and hums spill from him when I add a second finger and soften his insides. His response is so different than the first time I fucked him—he is relaxed and soft—willing and warm. Utterly tempting. I can’t wait.

Lying between his legs, I push my cock against his entrance, and I feel him relax purposely to allow me entrance. He sighs and gasps—in a mix of pain and pleasure—and I nip my tongue once more and bring my lips to his, allowing my blood to drip onto his tongue. He has his arms wrapped around me and is pulling me against him as though he can’t get enough of the touch of my skin—and I can tell immediately when my blood takes affect.

I sink into his body completely, and he releases a sigh unlike I’ve heard from another cat except during mating season. His entire body is hot—burning up—and covered in a fine layer of sweat—and it tastes sweet to me when I lick him. He is purring and gentle—and he is utterly _mine_.

My chest pulls again—that string wrapping around it tightly, like a claw sinking into my heart—and it’s painful. I gasp quietly—shocked at the sensation—and I meet his eyes. They are burning with lust and desire—for my touch—and I oblige.

As though some restraint has fallen from me, I fuck into his body hard and fast—desperately looking for that place inside him where he will feel it the most. When I find it—he stiffens his body slightly, a wheezing breath escaping his lips. The sounds spilling from him are nearing delirium—and I consider making him wait a little longer, teaching him the pleasure of delayed gratification, grasping his hilt and stroking his cock. My other hand is gripping his tail, pulling through his fur out to the enchantingly hooked tip, and he cries out in pleasure.

That soft cry makes me unable to delay him any longer—and I let him come. I can’t resist—I want to see him—and I pull back a little and watch his face. The sweet innocence disappears in a cloud of lust, though his ears blush deeply when he opens his eyes and sees me watching him. But he’s too far gone at this point to back it up now.

His body tightens and spasms, his insides grab my cock tightly, and he spills his cum into my palm. I don’t delay either—and I let myself be swept away as well—leaving my seed inside his body. He ruffles up all his fur when I spill hot and deep inside him, as though he’s received another taste of my blood—and his eyes dilate and his fangs bare.

I collapse against his small form—indulging in his body temperature, his scent, his soft skin, the soft sounds still spilling from him breathlessly. His eyelids flutter softly and I quickly turn his body around, pulling his back up against my chest. I pin him there—though he is not struggling to escape—and start to groom his ears—soft, slow, indulgent licks combing through the plush, bristled fur. Each stroke of my tongue sends a subtle shiver down his back, making him squirm against me.

His heart is thumping underneath my palm—still coming down from my blood and his climax—and mine. It thrills me that he is here with me, that I have left some of myself inside him, that I can groom him properly and care for him afterward. Once I finish his ears, I groom his hair and his nape—and he continues his soft shivering but stays submissive. When I let my tongue run down his spine, licking him from his shoulders to his waist, I feel him stiffen in surprise and slight discomfort—but I don’t let him escape. When I reach his tail, he starts to resist me—but his efforts are sweet and hopeless. I don’t stop the grooming. I’m enjoying his reaction too much.

Finally, he protests with words.

“Hey—stop it—it’s too sensitive…”

“Hmph,” I purr softly against the fur of his tail. “Do you feel like I should bite you instead?”

He growls softly in response but doesn’t move. So I gently nip the tip of his tail, watching as a jolt traverses down the length of his tail and into his back. I chuckle softly.

“You’re doing that on purpose!”

“You are awfully hard to resist.” Then it occurs to me—he was fine with the grooming till I reached his tail. Is it possible he feels self-conscious about it? Before I can tease him, he speaks again, his voice low and sulky.

“It’s easy for you to tease me like this—when your tail is nice and perfect.”

“You don’t like your tail?”

He doesn’t reply.

“I don’t dislike it, myself.”

That makes his ears bristle up, and he turns his head toward me—meeting my eyes with that heated gold gaze.

“What? Do you have a problem with it? If you don’t like it, bite me and get away.”

He flattens his ears, but he doesn’t look away. He knows very well what would happen if he bit me and managed to draw blood. He wouldn’t be able to resist the taste and effects of my blood. And the gods only know what would happen if I managed to work him up again so soon.

“I dare you,” I tease softly, smiling at him.

He growls again—so adorable! And then he turns his head away. That same painful pulling sensation in my chest rears its head when he moves his gaze from me—and I don’t like it.

So, I stop grooming his tail for a moment and sink my fangs into his scruff—surprising him and making him completely paralyzed. It’s a wonderful way to subdue resistant prey—but in this case, his scruff is handy and I need a little more of his sweetness. Tasting his sweat isn’t enough. I want a little more. And so I help myself—despite his soft meowing protest. It’s music to my ears.

I’m careful not to drink too much, of course. Once I finish, I lick over his skin a few more times and he stays right where he is—relaxed, submissive, and utterly taken. His eyes are closed—and it seems he’s drifted off to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe's POV. 
> 
> More sex--not quite as non-con as before, but still. Konoe is not himself. So yeah, it's triggering.

_“Let me drink from you and fuck you till you come completely undone, kitten. You’ll never want to leave this bed.”_

I _agreed_ to it. I _asked_ for it. I _wanted_ it. And now, I’m so confused I don’t know what to do with myself.

I have my eyes closed—and I’m pretending to be asleep. He is still grooming me gently—after assaulting my tail and saying he doesn’t dislike it—and how can he mean such a thing when his tail is so utterly perfect? I don’t know what to do.

My breath is settled and my body doesn’t feel any pain. Not even from the sex—which wasn’t as gentle as it could have been. My mind feels floaty and loose like my consciousness is slightly above my physical body. It feels so weird—it must be a result of the vampire’s blood. _Which I drank willingly._ Eagerly, in fact.

Where am I? I try to remember what I saw of the room—a huge bed covered in luxurious bedding. I feel the silk sheets underneath my skin, and it’s cool and wonderful. No windows and dim light. A heavy metal door. A weird swing in the corner and a fireplace. A closet, a dresser, a full-length mirror.

Weirdly, I feel like I might be underground. It just feels slightly damp in the air—and there is a soft scent floating around me—aside from Rai’s powerful clean scent that is flooding my nose. Is this a dungeon?

I remember reading that vampires literally go to ground during the daylight hours. They need to be protected from sunlight, and underground is as a good place as any. But what did I expect? A coffin? There isn’t anything like that in this room. It feels normal, except for the contraption in the corner.

Strangely, even after that interaction with the silver cat, I feel comfort. I feel like I belong here—and that feeling frightens me. I know I do _not_ belong with (or to) this (or any) vampire. Yet my feelings are definitely telling me otherwise. Probably as a result of ingesting his blood or him drinking so much from me—and he did drink a lot from me. It felt good and I didn’t stop him. In fact, I actually offered my neck to him.

I feel much more relaxed and calm than I did after he took me in his mouth in the public restroom at the inn. I wonder if I am getting some effect from his seed inside me—it felt so good when he came inside of me, a rush of pleasure—even so soon after my own climax—a euphoric satisfaction. It’s still dripping out of me, down the backs of my thighs and probably against his body. He is naked, lying behind me.

What should I do? I am so relaxed I can hardly move. And I don’t want to leave. Although… it’s dangerous for me to be here. He will drain me if he drinks as much as he just did. What is to stop him from fucking me again? But part of me is looking forward to just that—him fucking me, drinking my blood, and me drinking his.

_I don’t know what to do!_

I’m conflicted and confused—and I’m exhausted. So I think… I think, for now, I am going to rest. I let my eyes close naturally and I drift off to sleep—really enjoying his touch and the feel of his body curled up behind me. 

* * *

Sometime later, I startle myself awake, trying to sit up—but I can’t move. I’m pinned down by something heavier than me. I look down—surprised to see I am naked, and even more surprised to see the pale, muscular arms of the vampire surrounding me and holding me tight. He doesn’t move—but I feel the soft beat of his heart against my back. What? Do vampires have beating hearts? What is this? I thought they were dead.

My fur bristles up when my memory comes back to me—and what I did, what he did to me, and how much I _didn’t_ protest. Worse, how much I _asked_ for—even _begged_ for. Guilt and shame flood my body, filling my face and ears with blood, and that is enough to wake him up or make him stir. He moves behind me, flattening out a palm against my chest and another cupping my groin softly.

“Awake, my little fae?” His voice sounds sexy and hoarse, and he smells absolutely _enticing_. It’s irritating!

“Let go of me!” I protest, and to my horror, his tongue licks the nape of my neck, just beneath my hair. I do not want him to bite me there! It sends a weird paralyzing feeling through my body and I don’t like feeling so vulnerable around him. “Stop! Don’t touch me!”

“What? Do you want to go again so soon? Kitten, you have _incredible_ stamina.”

I blush even deeper and I protest again.

“I don’t!”

“Oh no? What’s this then?” And he strokes my cock under his palm. It’s erect—again—and almost uncomfortably so. And my balls are aching. “Perhaps something a little different this time?”

“I don’t want it!”

“Your body disagrees.” I think I hear a soft chuckle behind me. It’s infuriating! He’s mocking me!

At that moment, I completely lose my temper. I draw claws and bare my fangs, releasing a low growl. I turn around in his arms—quickly and violently—and I think I manage to take him by surprise. I swipe out my claws at his throat, but before I can sink my nails into his skin, I find myself pinned flat against the bed.

He is definitely still nude, and his pupils narrow to needles and then blow wide. He smiles—no, more of a smirk—and he lets those terrifying fangs show. He's incredibly attractive. It only confuses me more!

“What’s this? More resistance from you? A little spunk? And here I was about to suggest some tender lovemaking. That’s apparently _not_ what you’re in the mood for, kitten.” He leans a little closer to me, speaking directly into my ear, huffing hot breath deep inside and making my fur bristle. “I am happy to oblige.”

To my utter irritation, I feel tears in my eyes. I am so helpless—and I know my tears will not serve me. In fact, even before they spill down my cheeks, I feel his cock getting harder—pressing against my groin—when he smells them. He licks his lips.

“Haven’t I warned you? Your tears are utterly enticing.” He doesn’t resist, either, leaning down to lick my cheek. He’s making that strange growling sound again. “What do you think you’re doing? Trying to fight me and then manipulating me with your tears? Why not just be direct about what you want?”

“I want you to let me go,” I reply—my voice is very soft, though I really did try to yell it. I couldn’t. I’m not sure it is in fact what I want, either.

“No, you don’t, my sweet little fae. You belong here—with me.” Rai hesitates for just a second—I’m sure he thinks I don’t notice, but it was very obvious. So I insist.

“I want you to let me go,” I repeat, still in the same low voice.

“Hmph.”

“Please.”

I relax my body when I make my gentle insistence, and this does not serve me well. In an instant, I feel Rai’s fingers on my cock—stroking me gently and fingering the head. It makes me purr and moan out loud—embarrassingly so. And I renew my struggle to escape.

“So you want something a little rougher, then? I would love to play with you like that.” He smirks down at me again, showing his fangs. “Here’s what we will do. I will do as I like to your hot little body. You can beg and plead all you want for me to stop and let you go. If you _really_ want me to stop, though—I want you to call for help. Use the old man’s name.”

“Wh-what?” I’m stunned—but I almost don’t have a chance to dwell in my amazement. There’s no way I would call out for Bardo if I needed help—from Rai. That’s ridiculous! I don’t even want to _think_ of the old tiger cat, much less say his name out loud!

“It’s your safe-phrase.” Rai chuckles to himself and pulls me up out of bed roughly. I’m moved across the room—faster than I can process—and pushed over toward the swing hanging from the ceiling.

Why is there a swing in here? I almost have time to wonder, but I’m shoved into it quickly—though not roughly. My thighs are looped through the straps and my ankles are connected to cuffs at the end. My back leans against a harness—but my ass and arms are free. However, floating there makes me feel helpless, so I grab onto the bar above my head.

Additionally, my sight is blocked by soft silk fabric that is tied behind my head. I protest softly and touch the blindfold with my hand—and quickly bring my hand back to the bar since I feel the swing swaying. I can’t see anything—and all I feel are the straps holding me in place. I have no idea how secure I am or whether I might fall. I feel helpless!

“Remember—I gave you a safe word. I’ll respond to it if you call it out.” Rai is chuckling softly—and I feel the soft brush of his tail against me and a soft breeze as I am turned around several times. I feel slightly dizzy when I stop suddenly. The soft brush of his lips on the inside of my thigh makes my fur bristle. I know he’s going to bite me.

“Please—don’t…” I purr softly, and I lean back in the harness and relax when I feel his teeth sink in. I don’t think I want this—it feels too vulnerable. Though really, was I able to defend myself from him at any other time? This just makes me especially aware of my vulnerability and makes me feel submissive.

I can’t resist or fight him off when he slurps the blood from my leg and to my utter horror, I get even harder. Worse, he notices right away, since I feel his fingers stroking my cock and then skating behind my hips, brushing underneath my tail. I bristle fully and sway my tail, intending to push it down over my entrance to protect myself, but I end up simply swaying it wantonly and letting him touch me however he likes.

My entire body is shivering with need—and I want him to touch me more. I am suspended in the air—weightless—with only his lips and hands touching me. I can’t feel my nose or the tips of my ears because they are numb from my panting—already.

“Please…” I whisper.

The fingers beneath my tail sink into my body, and I stiffen slightly. There’s pain—not much, but a little—and that surprises me. It didn’t hurt before—and he wasn’t terribly gentle. But was that because of his blood?

“Does it hurt?” Rai asks softly—and I can feel his breath against my thigh, his tongue licking the wound there.

“Um… I’m sore,” I answer honestly.

“Allow me to assist you.”

Something warm and soft is pressed up against my mouth—his lips? And I open my mouth just a little to allow him entrance. His tongue tastes metallic—and I can feel blood dripping into my mouth—and either saliva or blood is dripping down the corners of my lips in only a few moments. I swallow quickly—feeling the relaxing, euphoric sensation of his blood rushing through my body. It makes me purr and sigh with pleasure.

“Better?”

His voice is soft and gentle—tender, almost—and it usually sounds like this when he fucks me. It’s almost as though he cares about me—perhaps he likes me… or perhaps this is something more. I know he wants me to feel pleasure, and I relax into it.

He hasn’t stopped moving either of his hands—still stroking my cock and my insides gently—and I notice there is a third finger inside me, gently spreading me apart, dragging along my inner walls, making me shiver whenever he presses slightly toward my belly. It isn’t long till I am gasping with eagerness. I want to come again—and soon.

“I told you, _patience_. Prolonging your desire makes your climax that much more satisfying, kitten. Relax.”

The fingers move from my cock, and I feel slightly disappointed. And then suddenly the swing is turned again—at least 360 degrees or more, I realize. It’s incredibly disorienting and it makes me feel utterly helpless… I should hate it, but I don’t. It feels like a weight is lifted off my chest, really.

Even when I feel his cock pressing below my tail—he must be crouching beneath me or I am up even higher than I expected—and I feel his hands next to mine on the bar. Is he using the swing to hold his weight as well?

But he needs to move my body onto him as he presses into me, and my angle is changed a little so my back is resting against his chest. He maneuvers me by my tail and my thighs—and it’s incredibly intimate. Perhaps because I have ingested his blood, I feel even more submissive—I feel like I am _his_.

I should be devastated by these feelings but it’s actually a huge relief. Like I don’t need to take responsibility for my own needs or feelings—or anything—anymore. I don’t think about how I got into this situation—I am just enjoying the feeling of his body against and inside mine. I’m relaxed and supple—willing and warm—and I want him inside me all the way.

Soon, my ass is resting on top of his thighs. I have no idea how I am being held so securely—but perhaps the swing has tipped forward. He starts rocking the swing back and forth—and me on his cock. That magical spot inside of my body is stroked immediately—and I cry out in pleasure. I want to come—so much—and he stops and starts several times, squeezing the hilt of my cock to make me back up from what I’m sure is going to be a fabulous climax.

I can hear his ragged breath right in my ear—and occasionally he follows his breath with his tongue. Even when he edges me off, I’m almost at climax again within a minute or two.

“So impatient. I don’t dislike you eager.”

It’s true. I don’t know that I have ever felt like I wanted to come so much—and more than that, I want to feel him spill inside of me. I want to feel taken—and I realize I am soon begging.

“Let me come—and come inside me—please…”

I can’t believe the words I hear coming out in my voice. I sound so soft and submissive, and weirdly demanding at the same time. My heart is racing out of control—and he finally lets me come. The swing is moving quickly—disorienting me still—but I relax into it and allow myself to climax. It's a complete submission, allowing him to fuck me as he likes and I am doing nothing at all.

At the same time as my climax—I feel him release inside me—and I feel a breathless, possessed sensation—almost like there is someone else making his presence known in my head and my heart, and not just invading my body. My chest hurts—and I feel something heavy pushing against my ribcage—from the inside. My heart flutters like a bird—and Rai sinks his fangs into my nape.

I purr loudly when my body goes completely limp—gasping with delight at the sensation of having my blood drunk once again. I feel like I am being eaten alive—but by pleasure. There’s nothing terrifying about it—well, not at the moment. I feel hypnotized. Later, I will rue these feelings and worry about them.

And before I know it—I feel my consciousness slipping away. I wonder if I am passing out or if he is draining me—and either way, _I don’t care_. I only want him to keep drinking from me, continue consuming me—until I feel nothing but sweet, numb satisfaction.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. So Rai accidentally over imbibes on his favorite new kitten's blood, making him pass out. He calls his in-house physician/shaman for help.

Oh, shit.

I drank too much.

This hasn’t happened in decades or possibly centuries—me accidentally drinking more than I intended from my prey. I just couldn’t stop.

Almost as if I was growing hotter—my instinct as a predator rose beyond what I could control, and I’ve had too much of the fae’s blood. I feel like I’m more than slightly buzzed or high—my consciousness floating outside my body and my blood humming just beneath my skin.

I freeze for a moment—that heavy, tight sensation in my chest is bothering me even more now, my heart lurching inside my body when I look down at the kitten, hanging lifeless in the swing.

Quickly, I press my finger against his throat, trying to find a pulse. It’s still there, but weak. He is passed out—probably from loss of blood, I’d guess, as my rational brain switches back on.

Shit. This isn’t what I intended.

In a flash, I rush out the door and call for the doctor. I keep a shaman on staff who is an expert in all things vampire. I’m not sure how old he is, but he has lived much too long for a mortal. Yet I know he can day walk, so he must still be Ribika. I find him at the bar flirting with a young vampire, much to my disgust, and I interrupt. My business takes priority since he’s on my payroll.

Bojyo arrives in my chamber and I lock the door behind him. He rubs his chin after feeling the fae kitten’s pulse.

“His heart is still beating. He should recover. Just give him time.”

“You don’t understand,” I press. “I drank too much. I couldn’t… um,” I stop for a moment, unwilling at first to divulge the fact that I couldn’t stop myself from drinking, as such a thing has never happened to me before.

“What? You didn’t intend to drain him? You haven’t. He’s just a small kitten—and he looks so young. You know, Rai, these days Ribika believe their kittens don’t come of age till they turn 18. You’ve been fucking a child. He can’t be 18, can he? Certainly, I’m sure he’s not gone into heat yet.”

“Shaman,” I say irritatedly. I don’t use the cat’s name unless I have to. And I certainly don’t have to today. “It was an accident. I drank more than I should have. I think he doesn’t have enough blood left to wake up.”

“Well, I’d still suggest you let him sleep it off. He should be fine in a few days.”

“I don’t want to _wait_ a few days!” I snap. To my continued irritation, Bojyo just looks at me and doesn’t even flinch from my raised voice.

“There’s no need for discourtesy. You know I will do whatever I can to help you. What is it you were hoping for? Because drinking more from him _tonight_ is not a safe bet unless you want him to die.”

I purse my lips, take a deep breath, and then open my mouth.

“I want him to regain consciousness and I want him to rest.”

“He will do both of those things on his own without my assistance.”

I sigh exasperatedly.

“You don’t understand. I… I, um, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Bojyo looks at me closely, and I see his nostrils twitch. He also gazes at the fae’s small body, which is rather obviously covered in fang marks.

“Because you haven’t been feeding regularly? I find that hard to believe, just from looking at the state of your companion.”

“It’s not that—I just… he just tastes like sunshine,” I say, my voice low. I look away. And I never look away from my staff or subjects.

But I notice the shaman’s ears bristle right away.

“Oya, oya. How interesting! Like sunshine, you say? You should have said so in the first place.”

The shaman walks over to the kitten and lowers his face to his naked body. I should have moved him from the swing, I know, made him more comfortable on the bed. But mostly, I hate seeing another cat so close to him—so close to his delicate, vulnerable (and utterly gorgeous) body.

“He is very young. And you’re right. I suppose his blood must be quite tempting for you—and your kind. He is not safe here.”

“He is my prey and under my protection,” I insist.

“He is fae. I’m sure you’ve lived long enough to realize this. Even under your protection, he will be vulnerable to attack, and many younger vampires won’t be able to stop themselves from draining him.”

So he is actually fae. The shaman has confirmed it. Bojyo sighs softly.

“Have you given him your blood?”

“I have. Some.”

“Well, forcing him to drink it will help him recover more quickly. I’d suggest you offer him more. The healing power your blood holds is greater than anyone else’s and greater than anything I can do for him. Also…”

“Also?”

“You might consider moving him from here. He’d probably be more comfortable to wake in a bed—possibly even his own bed. It will ease his recovery.”

“I can’t bring him home,” I confess.

“Why ever not?”

“He, um, rescinded my invitation.”

“What’s this? Oh, my! How _very_ amusing!” The old cat’s chuckling gets on my last nerve.

“Tomorrow, I will be able to bring him there,” I insist.

“Oh, really?”

“I purchased the land upon which his house sits. It will be my property tomorrow.”

“I see. How very interesting! He really must have captivated you.”

I growl slightly, but I start removing the straps from his thighs, touching his soft skin gently.

“Be sure if you give him your blood that he doesn’t choke on it. You have to make sure he swallows. Or I could help you with an infusion.”

I look up once I’ve got the kitten out of the swing and have carried him to the bed.

“An infusion. You know. I would insert a silver needle into your vein—it must be silver so it will pierce your skin and not heal too quickly—and then run a line to his arm. Your blood would surely heal him then.”

“Is that safer than my forcing him to drink it?”

“Indeed. He wouldn’t risk choking and your blood would combine with his directly. You wouldn’t have to worry about him swallowing it. In exchange, however, you’d have to tolerate silver in your body for an hour or so.”

I nod.

“Do it.”

“Really? How very amusing! I’ve known you for a long time, and indeed you must find something special about this kitten.”

“I’ve never tasted anything sweeter.”

“Well. That’s obvious. You’ll want to lie down. This will be painful.”

I do as I am asked as I watch the shaman dig through his supplies. Strangely, all his supplies are wrapped in plastic packaging. I feel strangely protective about the kitten lying silent and motionless in my bed, and I curl up behind him and wrap my arm around his body. He feels cool to the touch, which is shocking, so I take extra care to wrap him in the blankets.

“I’ll put in his IV first,” the shaman says, and he wipes the inside of the kitten’s elbow with alcohol. I watch with some degree of fascination as he skillfully threads a needle into the vein. My fangs bare suddenly when I see his (delicious and fascinating) blood bubbling up in the tube. “Now, now. He must smell delicious to you. But you may not have any more till he has recovered.”

Then, my arm is cleaned with the same antiseptic and a silver needle is stabbed into the soft flesh of my elbow. It burns like a son of a bitch—the skin smoking and burning, and it smells awful. But I don’t resist. I just relax. I trust the skills of this shaman. He connects a tube from my arm to the kitten’s, and I watch with fascination as my blood slowly seeps into his body.

“You are aware of what happens when a vampire drinks the blood of a fae?” It’s asked very casually.

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, in addition to it feeling good—and tasting good—it offers vampires a certain degree of unusual… power, if ingested over time.”

My ears perk up. His words are distracting me enough from the discomfort of the silver.

“What kind of power?”

“Well, legend says that the blood of the fae allows day walking.”

What? My ears bristle and my tail fluffs out. Is that what I’ve been tasting?

“Of course, this is only legend. I’ve never seen it myself. The fae are endangered, thanks to your kind. It’s said they live on another plane—and while I’m sure this kitten has _some_ fae blood in his veins, he is not purebred. However, you should be aware that in taking his blood—especially without his consent”—I bristle at the implication but the shaman doesn’t even flinch at my response—“you run the risk of inciting a war with his people.”

Suddenly, Bardo’s words echo in my mind. _You have no idea what you’ve started._ How the hell would that old man know something about this kitten that I wouldn’t? I know he’s an old vampire, too—and he’s seen a lot of things and been through experiences I don’t know about. But still!

“Are you trying to start a war? Because if his remaining people discover him—and your relationship—you will be in for some hard times.”

“What can they do? I mean, I’m sure I wouldn’t have any trouble recruiting others to drink blood that tastes like his. We’d drain them and that would be the end of that.”

“That may be true, but you don’t consider what the fae actually do for us in society. You don’t understand the role they play in nature and how they make the world function.”

I look at the shaman and he looks very serious.

“You’d be upsetting the balance of the world—if not the universe. There is a good reason they live on their own plane. So I’d suggest you make sure this kitten is consenting to your… activities, and that you keep it under wraps.”

I’m not sure what to say to that, but I’m not impressed. It’s possible the shaman knows things about other magical creatures—and maybe even knows more about magical creatures than I do. But keeping my relationship with the kitten a secret? I can hardly imagine. For now, however, I just nod.

We wait in silence for some time—an hour about—and I notice the kitten’s breathing has evened out. He is breathing more deeply like he is asleep rather than because he is unconscious. The shaman eventually removes the silver needle from my arm—and gods, what a relief! He looks up at me briefly.

“You must know he is something special, something to be treasured. Not every vampire would volunteer to silver himself for the sake of his prey.”

“It only makes sense,” I huff, rubbing my skin where the silver has burned me. “His blood is particularly attractive to me. I can’t imagine being without it. It wouldn’t serve my purpose to kill him.”

“I suggest you drink from another cat—or something synthetic—before you sink your fangs into this one again. That is if you are going to continue drinking from him. It will curb your appetite just enough so this won’t happen again. He is a small cat, after all. Also, be sure to feed him foods rich in iron. He’s quite thin for his height. Well, mostly thin, I suppose. He has a nice shape, despite how small he is.”

I growl under my breath at the comment. I have no desire to hear how attractive my fae kitten is from some old perverted shaman. He should keep his eyes to himself.

“Let him rest and wake on his own. I realize he may wake during the daylight, so keep him with you and lock him in, if you wish to protect him. Be sure to bring in food for him when he wakes.”

I nod and see the shaman to the door. I head out to see Mana and ask her about fetching a meal rich in iron and fluids for my kitten when he wakes. Something that doesn’t need to stay hot, since he will probably sleep for some time. Mana nods, and I wait till the tray is brought in. I’ve also been brought another bottle of True Blood, which I consume. I’m feeling a little under the weather as well, so after I drink it, I curl under the blankets, after stripping down to nothing, holding the sweet-smelling fae kitten in my arms. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, after grooming his ears for a little while, enjoying his scent and the feel of his soft, vulnerable body.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe wakes up in Rai's chamber at Fangtasia. To Konoe's surprise, Rai agrees to walk him home, where Konoe discovers that Rai has purchased the land under his house.
> 
> Non-con touching and kissing in this chapter--well, mostly non-con. IRL certainly non-con. :)

When I next wake, I am confused and groggy. I don’t feel terrible, though my body is a little sore. My head hurts like I’ve had too much to drink and I am warm. I try to stretch out on my bed… and I realize I’m _not_ in my bed.

Also, I realize I am unable to stretch because of the large, heavy body surrounding me. The vampire’s arms are locked around my chest, his fingers laced together just below my nipples—and gods, I’m still naked! I’m surprised I can’t hear him breathing—and then I realize it’s because he _isn’t_ breathing.

His body is still warm, but not as warm as mine. I can’t tell if he’s alive or dead—well, I _know_ he is dead. _All_ vampires are dead, of course. But what is going on?

I unlock his fingers and move his arms aside, untangle my legs from his and pull myself up to sit. I feel dizzy—and my memory is fuzzy. What happened?

I remember waking up here—naked—and that Rai fucked me. No, that’s not exactly right. I think I _begged_ him to fuck me. And then I slept again. Once I woke up, he fucked me again in that swing. Gods! What happened after that? My brain is foggy—was I blindfolded?

I pull my claws through my hair and I notice it has a strange scent—it doesn’t smell like me. It smells like fresh spring rain—like the vampire. He has been grooming me enough to leave his scent all over my body. I shiver a little when I notice my tail is holding his scent, too. It wouldn’t smell like that just from him grooming me once.

How long have I been here?

I stand up and stretch—feeling all the blood drain from my head and to my feet. The world shakes a little and so I sit right back down for a moment, planting my feet firmly on the floor. My stomach growls loudly, and I feel my ears heating up. I glance back at Rai, but he is still soundly… sleeping. Sleeping like the dead, I think ironically. Well, I need to see if I can find my clothes and get out of here. It isn’t safe for me to be here.

I find a plate of food on the table—a glass of juice, a sandwich with leafy greens and roast beef—and I think it’s strange that a vampire would have food. I mean, we are probably at his bar, possibly in the basement, and perhaps they serve Ribika customers as well. Plus I’m sure he’d have to feed other partners he’s had in the past… and I can't quite bring myself to think about that. But the thought is firmly planted there—and I glance over at the corner of the room. There’s that swing. There’s no way a vampire would have something like that for his own personal use. It’s definitely a permanent fixture for use as a pair.

I wonder if I’m his type—if he has a type. He’s not a bad looking cat at all—in fact, I still find him irresistibly handsome—and I think he could probably have any cat he wanted. Especially if he really has the power to hypnotize his partner.

After a short search, I can’t find my clothes anywhere. As much as I’d prefer _not_ to eat naked—and risk him waking up and finding me here and doing something else to me—I sit down at the table. I take the chair facing the bed so I will see if he wakes up. As long as he doesn’t move in that eerily fast way, I should be all right.

The food is really good. It makes me feel much better. While I’m eating, I notice I have a sore spot on the inside of my elbow—and it feels weird, so I take a closer look and am shocked to see what looks like a needle stick there. It’s mostly healed but it’s still slightly bruised. Is this a vampire bite? I don’t see the two fang marks I recognize from his bites—indeed, it looks different from the marks on my thighs.

Was I drugged? What did he give me? What happened? Why don’t I remember?

And then my memories come back. I passed out—probably from blood loss—that last time we had sex. He was drinking from me—more and more—and he’d already hadsome of my blood earlier. I start to feel a little nervous and I look around again. No windows, no clock, no phone. How long have I been here?

I glance over at Rai again, and he is still not moving. I don’t even see his chest moving up and down. I wish I had my phone so I could find out what day it was and call for help. But I need to find my clothes first.

They aren’t in this room. I am sure I watched him strip off his clothes earlier, so mine _should_ still be here somewhere, but I see nothing. I get up and walk to the door and place my ear on it. It’s cold—heavy and steel—and I can hear nothing from the other side. I try to pull it open—and see there’s a keypad next to it. I try a code—just guessing—and it beeps and flashes red. It’s a loud sound and I don’t dare try it again. Plus—if I really am in Fangtasia, what am I going to do? Go out there _naked_? Walk home _naked_?

As soon as I’ve finished my meal, I pace the floor nervously. Maybe it’s the sugar, but I already feel tired again, and the room is a little chilly. I look back at the bed—I’d like to lie down, but I don’t want to risk waking the silver cat. The longer I hesitate, the colder and more exhausted I get. I try to pull a blanket off the bed and I don’t succeed because his weight is holding it down. I try lying down on the couch—but it’s leather and cool against my skin.

Eventually, once I’m shivering and my teeth are chattering, I give up and head back to the bed. He was grooming me. He was actually tender with me—and he smells nice. And he’s warm. Warmer than me, now, especially when I snuggle up under the blankets and press my body against his chest.

I press my ear where his heart should be, and I’m terrified I won’t hear anything. But his heart is beating, slow and strong, but I’m _sure_ now he isn’t breathing.

Much to my surprise, the sound of his heart is oddly comforting and I drift back to sleep for a while. 

* * *

“Still sleepy, little fae?”

The honeyed voice slips into my ear like the sweetest poison, bristling my fur. I startle, realizing anew where I am. And now… the vampire is awake.

“I want to go home.”

“Do you? I’ll see you there safely. How are you feeling?”

The pale vampire releases me from his arms, ignoring my struggle, and rises from the bed. I can’t help watching him. He is naked and gorgeous—utterly perfect—and he catches me looking at him. I blush fiercely and look away, mortified.

“Where are my clothes?”

“I’m getting them for you. Relax, kitten. How do you feel?”

“What?”

“Your body. Are you sore? Still tired? Thirsty?”

“Um…” I hesitate for a moment. I know when I woke up to eat earlier I was walking around and I wasn’t very sore, except for that bruise on my arm. But now, I am definitely feeling the consequences of our earlier activity. Shit, when I sit up, I hurt below my tail. It's humiliating.

“Does your body hurt?” He is suddenly right next to the bed—wearing jeans and boots but no shirt. He is holding a shirt in his hand. I bristle up fully, mostly in surprise—but my body feels weird when he is so close. It feels like… like my blood is simmering at the surface of my skin, straining to reach him.

“Yes,” I finally bring myself to reply. “You _hurt_ me.”

He chuckles low.

“Now, now. You must not remember everything accurately. As I recall, you were _begging_ me.”

“How long have you imprisoned me here?”

“_Imprisoned_?” His eyebrows lift. “Perhaps you’re not nearly as innocent as you look. Your tastes always surprise me.” He touches my chin and tilts my face to meet his gaze. “Would you _enjoy_ it? Being locked up for my pleasure?”

I blush and cast my eyes down, trying fruitlessly to struggle from his grip.

“Still so stubborn—even after yesterday. You came undone with pleasure, and you certainly didn’t hold back your voice.”

I glare up at him angrily. My ears blush. I do remember the sound of my voice. It's embarrassing.

“What’s with that look? I’m only speaking the truth.” His voice is so utterly calm and not at all flustered. I’m angry with myself for feeling so self-conscious. I look away, feeling disgusted. Mostly with myself, I think.

“Come now. Get dressed.”

I hear a soft sound on the bed next to me. He’s set my clothes down and he pulls up a chair to watch.

“Do you _mind_?”

“What? It’s not as though I haven’t already seen _all_ of you,” Rai replies softly, his voice silky and tempting. “I’d love to see a little more before we leave—if you don't feel like getting dressed, that is.”

“Shut up.” I try to maintain my temper. I don’t know what is more infuriating—watching him act nonchalant and perfectly normal or the fact that he is teasing me or the fact that I have never felt so flustered in my life.

I pull on my clothes violently, and he’s suddenly at my side again.

“Let me help you, little fae.” He’s kneeling at my feet—oh, my gods—that someone who looks like this, someone this powerful with his experience, would be kneeling before me, even if he is just helping me put on my shoes—_gods_! Blood fills my lower body in a rush, making me feel slightly faint. I don’t miss his nose twitching nor his eyes glancing toward my crotch. Shit! Can he smell my blood—my arousal—even through my clothes?

I don’t have to ask when he glances up at me, tying my shoe without looking at his hands. His smirk tells me _everything_. He can smell it, and he is more than pleased. My ears blush even hotter, and his eyes glance up at them.

“Utterly tempting, little fae.”

“Why are you calling me that?”

“Because you are, indeed, at least part fae. One of your ancestors must have been a fairy. Vampires cannot resist the sunlight that flows in your veins.”

I’m _really_ not sure I want him to drink from me right now, though even the thought sends a strange wave of anticipatory pleasure rippling down my spine. He doesn’t miss my fur fluffing out, either.

“You need to stop that. I won’t be held responsible if you continue to tempt me.”

I look down at my shoes—which are neatly tied.

“Come. Let me walk you home.”

He offers me his arm and I don’t take it.

“You know, we have a crowd out there tonight. I won’t force you to take my arm, but if you don’t, I am not sure I can guarantee the safety of someone who smells and looks as tempting as you do.”

Quivering with fear when the steel door opens, loud music floods my ears and shakes my body. My heart starts to beat in time with the bass drum, and I shiver again. I look up at Rai who is watching me, and I reluctantly take his arm.

“Good boy.”

_Infuriating_, I think. But I’m glad to be on his arm when I meet the leers of the vampires hanging out in the bar. I’ve never seen so many before—not in one place—of all ages and sizes. I swallow nervously as I follow Rai to the bar. There’s a pretty orange tabby behind the counter and her eyes light up when she sees me.

“Ah. Welcome back to the land of the living, kitten. I’m Mana. What’s your name?”

“Um, Konoe.”

“Well, Konoe. I’m glad you survived. You've caught yourself quite the prize.” I ignore her and look away.

“Listen, I’ll be seeing the kitten home. Keep an eye on things for me, yeah?” Rai asks. He seems eager to get me out of the bar—and I have to confess, I’m eager to leave.

I feel much safer once I’m on the street—which is utterly ridiculous. I’m holding the arm of the oldest vampire in Sisa. What the _hell_ am I thinking? I'm not safe here!

“How long have I been in that place?”

“Oh, I brought you home with me yesterday,” Rai replies casually.

“I slept all day?”

“Well, it seems you did wake at one point to eat the food I left for you.”

Rai leads me off the main streets to the outskirts of the city. We are headed to the forest, indeed, the way I walk home.

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember? I’m happy to remind you,” Rai whispers in my ear. He stops walking for a moment and pulls me up against his body. If he isn’t alive, why does he feel so warm? His soft breath kisses my face as he lifts my chin, and he lowers his lips to mine. The kiss is gentle—and I allow it, swept away by the tender touch—before I notice what I’m doing and that I am not resisting him.

My body stiffens up suddenly and I try to push him away. I’m unable to overpower him, but he does stop kissing me for a moment.

“You’re not going to tell me you disliked it?” There's that smug smirk again.

“I-i d-don’t remember everything. Why did you keep me for so long? Did you drug me?”

“Drug you?” Rai chuckles and brushes his claws through the fur on my ears. “Why would I need to drug you?”

“I saw it—here, on my arm.” I tip my elbow to him and the bruise I know I saw yesterday is gone.

“Ah. That. So.”

But he doesn’t say anything else at first. He grabs my arm and starts pulling me into the forest—along the path, fortunately.

“What is this from?” I ask again. "What did you give me?"

“I had to call the shaman for help.”

He isn’t meeting my gaze.

“What shaman? Help for what? What are you talking about?”

“That second time—in the swing—”

I blush and look away, and my ears are stroked again gently. He stops walking for a moment and whispers, “I told you. I can smell your blush. It’s sweet and warm—and _utterly_ tempting. You need to stop if this isn’t your intent.”

“I can’t help blushing! I wouldn't blush if you didn't say embarrassing things!” I snap.

“Well then. That second time, I may have, well, over-imbibed.”

“What?” I don’t understand.

“I drank too much.” Again, he looks away, almost as though he is slightly embarrassed or flustered. It’s an awfully strange mannerism. I’ve never seen anything like embarrassment from him before. It's a little... endearing.

“You drank too much?”

“From you. I took more blood than you could spare at that moment. So I called the shaman after you passed out, and he infused you with some of mine.”

“What?” I’m shocked. And wait a minute—does this mean I will dream about him even more? In fact, is that why I’m just _letting_ him touch me and why my body feels so drawn to him now? “Oh, my gods.”

“It was safer than forcing you to drink while you were unconscious. I don’t usually... no. I haven’t _ever_ accidentally taken too much blood from my prey before. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“So you’re blaming me?”

“No. I am trying to apologize.”

“What?” I’m totally confused now.

“I _apologize_. I drank too much from you and ended up having to give you an infusion. You needed to rest and recover, and I couldn’t bring you home since you were unconscious and couldn’t invite me into your house.”

I feel very strange when he says these things. I’m not sure if I’m angry that he drank too much—I do, actually, remember him drinking from me while I was in the swing and I didn’t do _anything_ to stop him. I may have been begging him to drink more, in fact. It felt _really_ good. But if that’s the case, won’t it happen again? Won't I run the risk of death? Shit, it's just as Bardo warned me!

“Maybe we shouldn’t, um, get to that point again,” I suggest.

“What are you saying?”

“I mean, if you can’t control yourself around me, I don’t want you to drain me. Even accidentally.”

“Well, worst-case scenario: I could always make you one of us.”

“What?! No! _Hell_ no!” I burst, turning to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to be a vampire!”

“You could stay by my side forever.”

“What are you saying? You don’t even _know_ me!”

“Plus… you’d never age.”

“No!” I shake my head and pick up the pace. I want to get home. He’s scaring me. “You can’t do that without my approval.”

“Actually, I _could_,” Rai says neutrally. “What could you do to defend yourself against me?”

I see my house up ahead along the path and speed up again.

“I mean, what makes you think I’d _want_ to stay by your side if you made me like you?” I need to keep him talking and keep him from biting me again—at least till I get home.

“I’d be your maker. You wouldn’t have a choice except to obey me.”

I look up at him, and he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

“Well, I don’t want that. I happen to _enjoy_ the sunshine. And I don’t want to live forever.”

“Not even by my side? We could conquer the world.”

“What are you talking about?!” I feel frustrated. “Plus, if I were a vampire, you wouldn’t be able to drink my blood, right?”

“Wouldn’t I? And how would you know such a thing?”

“Wait. Could you? Drink it? Can you drink another vampire’s blood?”

“Oh, I certainly can.”

I start to feel a little sick with nervous anxiety. What am I going to do? He is not releasing my hand.

“Um, won’t you come in?” I ask once we get to the door. My hands are shaking so much I can’t get the key out of my pocket.

“Thank you for the gracious invitation,” Rai whispers, sending another frighteningly pleasant shiver down my back. He pulls the key out of my front pocket and unlocks the door, ushering me inside.

I just need to rescind his invitation again and I will be safe. I slip out of my shoes at the door and then turn around and open my mouth—only to be attacked by his lips again. He takes me in a passionate kiss that feels _way_ too good to be natural. My fur stands on end, my claws draw, but my body completely relaxes in his arms. He hums softly into my mouth and strokes my hair gently.

Once he pulls away, I look up and meet his gaze.

“I rescind your invitation.”

And nothing happens! What the fuck?! Rai tilts his head to the side and watches me.

“Are you going to try that cruel trick again, little fae? It won’t work this time.”

“I rescind your invitation!” My pulse starts to throb in my ears, and I’m scared out of my wits. “Get out of my house!”

Rai chuckles again softly and pulls me over to the bed. My home is a one-room house, and he pushes me down to the mattress on my back.

“I’ve wanted to try making love to you slowly and gently—but you always seem to escalate things to something close to violence.”

The vampire pulls my shirt off overhead.

“_Why_ are you still in my house?!” I burst, terrified and frustrated. “Without an invitation, you can’t be here!”

“Not if it’s _your_ house. That is very true.” He kisses my nose, my cheeks, the tips of my ears. I try my best to struggle and I can’t seem to resist.

“Wait—what?” What is he saying? “This _is_ my house! You don’t own it!”

“Actually, that was true up until a few days ago, until the last time you rescinded your invitation so cruelly. But I have since purchased the land underneath it. So this is technically _my_ house.”

_What_? Wait—then I have no place to go! No place where I am safe?! Is he… is he going to drain me?

“Please—don’t!” I beg. “Please!” I feel tears burning my eyes and my body starts to shake with fear.

“What? You certainly didn’t dislike anything that happened between us the last few times, kitten. I was going to be even more gentle with you here. This room—ah—it smells so warm! Like the sun shining on the summer solstice. I’ve longed for this, ached for it.”

“No! Stop—don’t _touch_ me!”

“Relax, kitten. I can make it feel good. You know that by now.”

“I’m sore! You hurt me! Get off me!”

He’s pinning me down in my own bed—over my blankets—and fear courses through my body.

“You certainly are struggling as if you mean it. Settle down, kitten. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You already _did_ hurt me! Get off! Get out!”

“Relax, little kitten,” he purrs, and I can feel the vibration from his body pressing up against mine. He’s erect and I feel him toying with my waistband.

My fear overflows suddenly—and something like a violent burst of energy bursts from my body. It looks like light spills from my fingertips and shocks the cat holding me down, throwing him off my bed with violence I don’t expect or understand. I’m surprised and frightened—but there is a strange sound filling the room, and it takes a minute for me to realize that the sound is a _song_—and it’s coming from my body. I'm warm and glowing, too.

I sit up in bed, the room bright with light from my body, and I see Rai lying on the floor. After a minute, he sits up and looks at me.

Something is very, _very_ different about his face. His expression—it looks like a little, helpless boy. He looks incredibly young. And he tilts his chin in a way that makes him look confused.

“What _are_ you?”

He looks at me with a certain degree of fascination, but he also looks… _vulnerable_. What the hell is going on? Did he hit his head?

I don’t waste any time, though. Instead, I say loudly, “I rescind your invitation!”

And to my utter shock, it _works_. Rai’s body is dragged across the floor as if by magic to the front door. It opens and throws him out onto the porch. But he holds on to the door frame, looking into the house and watching me.

“What _are_ you?” Now, in addition to that utterly innocent expression, I see something like hunger sparkling in his eyes. It makes his pale blue eyes shimmer with need and desire. It sends a shiver up my back and bristles out my fur. “Let me… I want to…”

“No! Get out!” I yell again. I get up from the bed, my jeans unbuttoned and my shirt on the floor. “Leave!”

To my surprise, he flinches when I yell at him. What was that?! He flinched as though he were afraid—and he looks up at me with the most vulnerable, hurt expression on his face.

“Are you angry?” His voice is soft and sweet—and so weirdly young.

“Yes! Get out of here!”

“You don’t like me?”

What the hell is wrong with him? He must have hit his hard awfully hard. I have no idea. I try to settle down a little and soften my voice. He’s messing with me, I’m sure. Just… that expression is hurting my heart.

“Look. You need to go home. Go back to Fangtasia.”

“Okay.” He stands up obediently and turns to leave. Before he heads down the steps on the porch he turns back to me. “Are you sure I can’t stay with you? You smell so nice.”

“No!” I burst, and he flinches again as though he’s been struck. It makes me feel awful—but I can’t invite him inside! What happened to him? “You belong in Fangtasia.”

“All right.” He turns to leave again. “May I come back and see you?”

“No! Go home.”

He looks at me and swallows hard—and my gods, I think I see his eyes shimmering with tears. What the fuck?!

“Not today. Just go home and get some rest.” I keep my voice soft, unable to stop myself from feeling guilt.

“All right.”

I watch from the doorway as the tall silver vampire heads back through the forest. He turns back to look at me several times before he is out of sight. And once—my gods—he waves at me. He’s like a little boy!

As soon as I see he’s left, I head back into my home, stunned with what just happened. And really, did he buy the property under my house? I need to find out. But surely, that will have to wait till tomorrow. I grab a slice of bread and head to bed. I don’t even have the energy to shower.

Once I’m in my bed, curled up and getting warm, _all_ I can think about is Rai. His soft, clean smell—spring rain—and that utterly sweet, vulnerable expression on his face. And then… that song and light that came from my body. I’ve never experienced anything like that.

I drift off to sleep and dream of the silver cat.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates. I've been a bit under the weather and not in the mood for writing.
> 
> This is a fun, fluffy update--weirdly so, for this fic. Konoe gets a surprise visitor from Fangtasia and then ends up babysitting.

The next morning is Monday—my usual day off—and I sleep late. I had two sex dreams last night—again—but I slept well and soundly and am only slightly annoyed when I wake (because of the issue of clean up). I feel much better than I did the night before. When I get up to enjoy my free day, I remember that I actually quit my job Saturday, so I will probably have a lot of free days in my future.

A sigh escapes my mouth. What should I do? And about so many things! First, a _job_. I need to find work so I can afford to live. Rai offered me employment at his bar but after this weekend, I’m afraid. I wonder what he meant when he said he couldn’t control himself around me. He’s acting like he’s addicted to my blood, really.

And that brings me to the silver cat vampire himself. I can’t deny my attraction to him anymore. Not at this point, at least. His face seems to pop up in my mind even when I’m awake. I can almost feel his hands on my body while I'm in the shower. Just the thought of him makes me want to touch myself, but he’s had so much of my blood I’m afraid to do that now. He will be able to tell what I’m thinking and feeling when I’m awake, and I am sure he is able to tell how I feel in my dreams, including both those dreams last night.

But when he left here last night—after whatever song and light thing that spilled out of me—he was different. Almost as if he were another cat. Recanting his invitation to come into the house worked afterward, too—as if he didn’t remember that he had purchased the land underneath my house. What on earth happened?

I spend what’s left of my day taking care of shopping and household chores. The entire time I am thinking about Rai—and occasionally worrying about my employment status.

Bardo being a vampire bothers me. How could Bardo lie to me about what he was? Why wouldn’t he have told me he was a vampire? What were his motivations? Did he really want my blood as well? He waited a year before touching me... well. Maybe not. He did touch me. He touched me a lot, hugging me, petting my ears and my ass and tail, but he never bit me.

And when I think of the tiger cat, I can’t help remembering when Rai suggested I use Bardo as a safe word. And also that I _didn’t_ actually use it—despite how overwhelmed I was, I didn’t want Rai to stop—not even when he’d obviously had more of my blood than I could afford to give. But at the same time, I don’t think I consented. So what _was_ that? And why did I like it so much?

A part of me regrets sending him away last night—because as afraid as I was of him drinking too much from me, I really did want him to touch me more and, as he said, make love to me tenderly.

Gods, what is _wrong_ with me?! I cannot stop thinking about sex and the silver cat, and it’s making me uncomfortable and nervous. I feel like a different person since that time in the woods just a few days ago. I feel hot and sweaty under my collar, though it’s been slightly cooler today. It’s autumn, of course. Perhaps I should switch the sheets on my bed to flannel. Although it will only leave me more laundry to do if and when I keep dreaming about Rai.

Someone knocks at my door shortly after sunset. I’m wearing sweats and a tee-shirt, barefoot while finishing up some food prep for the week. I rarely have time or energy to cook for myself when I come home from work. Though I don’t have to worry about that now, it’s a habit I’ve formed to help me manage my time, and it will still save work in the long run.

I’m a little surprised when I peep through the peephole. It’s the auburn-haired female from Fangtasia who introduced herself as Mana. What is she doing here? I open the door.

“Yes?”

“Is he here?” She asks. She can’t come in without an invitation, of course.

“What? Who?”

She clicks her tongue.

“Nice try, but I can smell him on you. He isn’t here, is he?”

“What are you doing here?”

She sighs in exasperation—as though I’ve kept her waiting a long time.

“I’m looking for Rai, our local sheriff. He missed an important meeting last night and he still hasn’t returned after seeing you home.” She narrows her eyes at me, and my ears flatten just a little. “You know something, don’t you?”

“Um, n-no,” I stammer slightly. She makes me a little nervous—her pupils are narrow as needles and her nostrils twitch a little.

“What is it?”

“Well, how do you know where I live?” I’m unnerved by this. My home is isolated, after all. She shouldn't know where I live!

“I didn’t. I followed your scent and his. And then I remembered some paperwork I saw a few days ago at the bar—it seems this house isn’t yours anymore, is it?”

“I didn’t sell it!”

“Well, nevermind. It seems he likes you enough to put you up for the time being,” she says, crossing her arms. “It’s weird. I’ve known him several centuries, and I’ve never known him to get obsessed over a single prey before. He has his choice of willing donors, you know. It would serve you to treat him well.”

I bristle all my fur and return her glare. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about! She couldn’t possibly understand—I didn’t _ask_ for any of his attention! She’s acting as if I’m hogging him all to myself or something!

“I mean, spending even this short of time in your presence, I understand the attraction. You do certainly have a nice scent about you. I wonder what it is about you that makes you smell so special.”

I growl softly and start to close to the door.

“I’ll tell him you’re looking for him if I see him.”

“Wait!” She steps up closer to the door and I stop for a moment. “Do you know where he went after he dropped you off last night? And when?”

“He went back to Fangtasia, I think.”

“Did he stay long?”

Is she asking if he left right after he dropped me off? Or is she wanting to know if he fucked me again?

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“I don’t care how he spends his time. I know he fucked you all night long when you spent the night at his place. That’s his business and his MO. I just need to know about when he left here yesterday—because if he left right after bringing you home, he should have made it back to Fangtasia. It’s weird for him not to be there by morning.”

“Oh. Well, he was here for about twenty minutes.”

“I see. You’re pretty quick, then?”

“Give me a break!” I close the door on her. She finishes the conversation through the door.

“Thanks for your help, kitten. Let me know if you see him.”

I roll my eyes and wonder what the hell that was about. I am a little bothered, too, though. He did seem different when he left here. But I don’t want to leave my house after dark and he's old enough to take care of himself. He will show up when he wants to, I’m sure.

After finishing the meal prep, I head to the couch and watch some mindless television till I’m tired. I fall asleep there—and again, startle awake when someone pounds on my door.

Out on the porch, I see Mana with her hands on her hips.

“Open up, kitten! I know you’re there. I need your help.”

I open the door a little and to my surprise, Rai is standing at the bottom of the steps, dragging his shoes through the dirt. He looks strange—first of all, because of his clothes. He’s wearing a casual shirt and basketball shorts. And it’s _cold_ outside. Plus his hair is tied back in a ponytail. He has dirt under his fingernails and he’s not really paying attention to anything around him. He really looks like a different cat—not like the intimidating thousand-year-old vampire I know.

“Hey, something has happened. I’m not sure I can explain, but the way he is now, he is _not_ safe at Fangtasia. No one knows where you live but for me—and your scent is gone now, so no one can find you. You’ll be safe if you stay indoors. So… will you watch him for me?”

“What? Hell, no!”

“Come on! I don’t have anyone else who can do this. He’s just… acting weird.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Why? He didn’t leave here normally last night?”

“N-no—well, that’s not it. I just meant, what’s wrong?” I don’t want to tell Mana that whatever happened to Rai did, in fact, happen last night and was most likely at my hands.

“He can’t seem to remember… _anything_. Not who he is—that he’s the sheriff, that he’s the owner of Fangtasia, _nothing_.”

“…”

“Look, he _has_ to stay here. I know it’s _his_ house.”

Rai looks up then—and he meets my eyes with his own pale blue ones. They sparkle with youth and innocence. What? _Innocence_? What the hell is going on?

“Listen, Rai. You don’t need an invitation to stay here. This is _your_ house. You own it.”

“Does he come with the house?” Rai finally opens his mouth. He’s asking Mana but looking at me.

“Yeah. And even better, he’s your friend. So you need to do what he says until we get this whole mess figured out.”

“I can stay here with you?” Rai asks, moving up to the door faster than I can see. His fresh scent is the same as ever and it makes me sweat a little. He notices my sweat almost right away and he leans down to smell my neck.

“Oy—stop!” I say, pushing him away. He actually stops.

“Why?”

“You—um, last time, you _hurt_ me.”

“I hurt you? I would never hurt you.” He sounds horrified.

“Well, you did.”

“What did I do?”

“You drank too much of my blood and I lost consciousness. I could have died.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He offers an apology right away—and it’s weird. It’s like he’s a different cat. His face looks pained—honestly saddened and regretful—that he hurt me. “I promise I won’t lay a finger on you.”

I look at Mana, and she looks as confused as I feel.

“What is going on?”

“I have no idea. But I’ll get my people on it—and his, too. Just—don’t let him leave. I'll try to send over a shaman. Here, take these. He is probably hungry. He will drink these if you don’t want him to drink from you.”

She presses a grocery bag into my hands—and there’s a six-pack of True Blood in it.

“Um, okay,” I say nervously. “But I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“You’ll be fine. He seems to remember that he likes you. Or your scent, at least” She turns around and walks down the steps, giving a little wave of her fingers before darting away from my house.

“I can come in?” Rai asks. He’s already standing in the doorway, so he must know that he can. Even after Mana telling him he owns this land, he waits for my invitation. I don’t see a way around this, and he seems almost harmless, though I’m still a little nervous around him.

“Listen,” I say before inviting him inside. “I know you need a place to stay and I am willing to let you stay here. But I need you to promise you won’t touch me—or do _anything_ to me—without my direct permission and consent.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to hurt you or make you unhappy.” Even the tone of his voice sounds younger. It’s so weird!

“Okay, then. Please come in,” I move aside and let him enter the house. “Um… are you hungry?”

His pupils widen suddenly and he approaches me quickly—but he doesn’t touch me. I can see he’s trying to smell me again. I realize he probably thinks I smell tasty, but he keeps to his word and keeps his hands to himself.

“Yes.”

“Um, let me warm one of these for you,” I say, awkwardly moving away from his body. He looks oddly disappointed, but there is no way I'm offering him my neck at this point. Or maybe my thigh... gods! I need to stop thinking about it! “Make yourself at home.”

I watch him from the corner of my eye—he heads to the couch and he seems to be able to tell exactly where I was sitting since he takes his position there, looking around my home as though he’s never been in here before. Also, he seems to be basking in my scent.

“It smells really nice in here. Like… summer and sunshine and a festival.”

“Um, I’m glad you like it.”

“What are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“What are you? You’re not like the others. You’re not a cat.”

I bristle up my fur, taking a little offense. I am _so_ a cat!

“Sorry. Did that hurt your feelings? Are you mad?”

“No,” I say, but I _am_ a little irritated. “I’m just Konoe. I’m Ribika. You know me.”

“Konoe." He says my name as though sampling it. "It's a pretty name. Are we really friends?”

“Um…”

“Even though I hurt you? I don’t think I would ever do anything to hurt something like you. You’re so… special.”

He stands up and approaches me in the kitchen. He stands a few feet away from me, as though measuring the distance carefully, watching me as I’m waiting in front of the microwave.

“Oh, it’s almost done,” I say nervously. I'm thinking of ways not to actually tell him what happened or go into detail about our relationship.

“You’re afraid of me.”

“N-no—”

“I can _smell_ it. Your fear. It smells really good, too, but I wish you weren’t afraid of me. I wish I could... I want…” His voice trails off softly and he drops his gaze for a minute.

I’m watching him, though, so he looks up again.

“I want to touch you.”

“Well, I _don’t_ want you to touch me,” I say firmly. “And you agreed to my conditions. If you do something to me, I will ask you to leave. Here’s, it’s done. It might be a little warm.” I hand him the bottle—it’s O-negative, of course. “This is your favorite flavor.” I don’t know that for sure—but I do know it’s all he ever ordered at the bar when he’d come to see me there.

“Thank you.” He takes a gulp from the bottle then does something I don’t expect. He jerks away from the bottle suddenly—acting like he was burned. It’s odd.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah. It’s just hot. It burned my tongue.”

I tilt my head to the side. What? It’s warm, but it shouldn’t be hot. I felt the bottle—and it wasn’t even steaming or anything.

“Are you sensitive to heat or something?” Can vampires have the cat’s tongue?

“Yes. I have always been this way, I think. So…” he looks up at me suddenly again. “Will you at least sit next to me? Please? I won’t touch you.”

I sigh softly. It’s so strange having him here like this.

“All right. We can watch TV,” I suggest. I go back to the couch and sit down, and he sits down as close as possible to me—without actually touching me. I can tell he is restraining himself, but it’s obvious he wants to touch me. He is very careful with his body, though.

I turn the television on and find something boring to watch, but he isn’t watching. He is staring at me. It's more than distracting.

“What?” I ask.

“You smell so nice. And you have a glow about you.”

“I think that’s your fault.”

“Mine?”

“Yes. You gave me your blood.”

His pupils dilate and then narrow quickly to slits—and it makes me flinch. He is disappointed when he sees me flinch, though.

“You drank from me?”

“Yes, a little, and then I think you gave me an infusion. To help me recover.”

“I see.” He leans back a little, taking a careful sip from the bottle. “I am sorry I hurt you. Do you want…?”

He doesn’t finish the question, so I glance at his face. He is watching me very carefully.

“Do you want more of my blood? If you are still hurt?”

My entire body starts to sweat. I realize that I am indeed denying myself.

“It seems like you actually want me to touch you. Are you so afraid of me—for what I did to you—that you’d deny yourself?”

I look down and don’t answer.

“I won’t do _anything_ you don’t want me to do,” Rai says, his voice soft and strange.

“I’m tired,” I announce suddenly. “Here. Let’s close the curtains. I need to get ready for bed. You should be all right on the couch, right?”

“You don’t want me to sleep next to you?”

Again, I can’t quite reply. I’m not sure _how_ to reply, first of all. Because in truth, I _do_ want him next to me, so very much. I want to feel him grooming me.

“That’s okay,” I say. “I’m going to get ready to go to bed.”

I worry that I won’t be able to sleep with him in the house with me. What if he does something to me? I wonder as I wash my face and brush my teeth, and then I come back out to the main living area and curl up in my bed under the blankets.

“It’s too big for you,” Rai points out, looking at me over his shoulder and over the back of the couch. “You look lonely there, all by yourself.”

I click my tongue, turning over and pulling the blankets with me. About ten or fifteen minutes pass, and I can still feel his gaze on me. I have my back to him, though, and I am really finding it hard to relax, so I try grooming myself. Weirdly, my body is hot and I feel aroused—just from him being in the same room with me. I wonder if he can tell what I am thinking about—even if he’s in the same room.

“I can…” Rai starts again, and his voice startles me. I open my eyes and turn around, and he is standing right next to the bed. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t hear you move.”

“You… your feelings—they don’t match the words coming out of your mouth.”

It’s a true statement, and his comments answer my earlier questions. He can indeed tell what I am thinking.

“It feels like you want me next to you, though you are denying it. I will be quiet and still and I won't disturb you. I will help you with your fur and let you rest.”

I’m not actually worried about how loud he is. I've never met a cat who can move more quietly than he can.

“I don’t have to drink your blood. But I would love to, um…”

“What?”

“I would love to lick your body.”

Shit! What the hell is this?! He’s being so utterly direct. And worse, it makes the blood rush to my hips and groin.

“And I could _just_ lick you—I won’t do anything else. I will only touch you with my tongue, not my hands, not my teeth…” He sounds desperate, almost like a child, trying to make up any excuse to be next to me and climb in bed with me.

“No!” I insist. His ears droop—even his fluffy tail stops its hopeful sway and sags low. I’ve never seen him with such an expression—and I look up at his eyes—and gods! They are sparkling with tears.

“I am sorry I hurt you. I _promise_ I won’t hurt you again. Please.”

I don’t reply.

“It hurts me—feeling your yearning for me and being right here and not being able to help you. Please. Let me help you. Let me meet your desire.”

My desire? The fuck!? I am quickly losing my resolve—and this version of the frightening vampire is terribly sweet and wonderful—not scary at all, either—and he looks so earnest and cute. Also, he can see my resolve is fading—or feel it—because he continues.

“I promise I won’t touch you with anything else. Just my mouth. My lips and tongue. And no fangs.”

A few moments of silence pass between us as I try to decide what the hell I’m supposed to do.

“It’s what you want, isn’t it? Why would you deny yourself your heart’s desire when it’s right here before you? It’s _painful_.”

It is, indeed, painful. My chest aches.

“I just want to be close to you.” It's so weird to hear these earnest confessions coming from the majestic, powerful beast I know he is.

I sit up suddenly and his ears perk up.

“Okay. Here are my conditions. _Yes_, you can sleep in my bed. _Yes_, you can groom my ears. _Yes_, you can touch me. But your clothes have to stay on.”

“What about your clothes?”

“Gods! My clothes are staying on, too. I’m going to _sleep_. I don’t want to do anything else.”

“But you will allow me to groom you?” He asks hopefully.

“Um, yes,” I admit softly.

“Can I sleep next to you—close enough to touch you? Can I use my hands?”

“To _groom_ me,” I clarify. “_Nothing_ else.”

“It will be safer for me in your bed since there are no windows here. I don’t do sunshine very well,” Rai says happily, his tail swinging broadly and he crawls into bed with me. It’s a little strange—like having a giant kitten snuggling in bed with me—but he feels so nice and warm and comforting—and that scent is irresistible.

“You like my scent, too, don’t you?”

“Isn’t it because you’ve given me your blood?”

“Oh—maybe it is. I don’t really know. But I do know that you smell amazing.” Those are the last words I hear—since he lowers his lips to my ear and starts grooming my fur—softly and carefully. It feels utterly indulgent and affectionate. I try not to think about it too much as I drift off to sleep. It’s actually easier to fall asleep with him right next to me in bed than on the couch. I have my back pressed against his chest, and he keeps to his word.

As the night progresses, I realize haven’t thought through this plan very carefully, however. It didn’t occur to me that the silver cat might fill my dreams—even if he is right here beside me. And he doesn’t sleep at night.

Rai is grooming me, carefully and gently. Then he pulls off my shirt, touching my chest, stomach, nipples, and throat tenderly—and I am purring and gasping softly, enjoying the touch. I don’t resist as he pulls down my sweats and caresses my legs. He lets his lips and tongue travel down my torso to my navel and then drops it even lower. He feels utterly amazing, his hands caressing my hips and thighs, slipping his fingers between my legs and his claws pulling through the fur on my tail. I open my eyes just in time to watch him pull the waistband of my underwear down just enough to expose my erection, and then I watch with bated breath as his lips curl around the head of my cock…

I wake with a start just as he sucks me into his mouth (in my dream, of course, since he isn’t touching me elsewhere in reality). And I realize groggily that I’ve had yet _another_ wet dream. I wake slightly disoriented—because I don’t recognize the scent surrounding me. Clean, spring rain—it smells so nice, and my body feels quite good.

“You dreamt of me.”

My fur bristles up suddenly—startled by the sound of his voice, and I turn my head. He is watching me—almost breathlessly. Gods! Did he just watch me? He watched me have this dream and watched me come? I hope I didn't make any weird noises!

“You dreamt of me touching you. Making love to you. And yet you say you don’t want me to touch you.”

I sigh, slightly embarrassed. I don’t know what to say or what to do. Looking around for something to clean myself up with, he grabs my shoulder.

“Let me.”

“Let you what?”

“May I?” He whispers so softly as he pushes me to my back. “I will help you.”

He doesn’t wait for me to consent—but it’s just weird and a little uncomfortable instead intrusive, as I think it should be. Strange—really—since he is licking the cum from my belly, using long, gentle strokes of his tongue. He is purring loudly and contentedly, and he is breathing heavily—as though he is enjoying a rich meal.

He glances up at me for a moment.

“Is this okay?”

I nod but am speechless. I don’t know what to think.

“You taste so good… like the sunlight.”

I let him finish—and find myself aroused a second time by the time he finishes. I ignore my feelings and pretend as if I’ve gone back to sleep. But really—it’s weird. And oddly disconcerting to forbid him from doing anything else to me and have him actually obey me.

And is it what I really want? I don’t know. Maybe I would like a little more.

Thankfully, I make it through the rest of the night without any other dreams.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long time since I updated this fun little fic. This is the same chapter as before, from Rai's POV. He is not quite himself, in most ways.
> 
> Trigger warnings: dub-con touching, but Rai really tries his best.

The magic kitten dreamed about me last night. I know he had two explicit sexual dreams involving me last night. Plus, while I slept yesterday, I could feel his thoughts linger on me—on what he might like me to do to him, mostly—though his feelings are desire and lust mixed with a strange fear. Why is he afraid of me? Does that fear increase his attraction? Certainly, while I rest, I can tell he is fantasizing about me. So I really don’t understand his reluctance when he sees me that night at his front door.

I’m thrilled when the cat named Mana walks me back to the magic kitten’s house. She found me in the woods—where I slept last night. She seemed to be looking for me and gave me a change of clothes since I've ruined the ones I was wearing when I went to ground last night.

I can smell the blonde kitten from where I am standing, below the steps of his porch. When he finally opens the door, I can smell his warmth. He is barefoot and his toes look oddly attractive and cute to me. I let my eyes wander up his body—loose sweatpants hang low around his hips—his waist is thin and his hips are wider in proportion, and the fleece clings to his lower body in an enticing way. His tee-shirt is casual and slightly messy and his hair is sticking out—adorably, reminding me of what he might look like when first getting out of bed. His entire body has a warm golden halo that shimmers around him subtly. I wonder what it is—no. I don’t. I _know_ what it is: magic—_light_ magic—sunlight running in his veins. It is what makes him so utterly irresistible to me.

His tone is almost angry, I think, and he still insists he doesn't want to be involved with me. Even angry, though, his voice has a soft tone that tickles deeps inside my ears. It sends subtle shivers down my neck and makes me bristle my tail. I think my fangs bare—accidentally and helplessly—when I stand before him. I’m a little taken aback at his angry tone of voice and unsure if I have done something to displease him, so I uncomfortably shift on my feet and drag my toe in the dirt. The female is trying to convince the cute blonde to let me inside.

“What’s wrong with him?” The kitten asks. His voice really is magical. I can’t _not_ look at him when he speaks, but making eye contact makes him even angrier, so I look away.

“Why? He didn’t leave here normally last night?” Mana asks.

“N-no—well, that’s not it. I just meant, what’s wrong?”

“He can’t seem to remember… anything. Not who he is—that he’s the sheriff, that he’s the owner of Fangtasia, nothing.” It feels as though Mana is talking about some other vampire and not me.

“…”

“Look, he _has_ to stay here. I know it’s his house.”

That’s when I look up for real. The soft magical kitten is staying in _my _house? Why?

“Listen, Rai. You don’t need an invitation to stay here. This is _your_ house. You own it,” Mana explains.

“Does he come with the house?” I ask, keeping my voice soft. I would _love_ to stay here if he is mine. Maybe I own him _and_ his house? The thought is rather mesmerizing. Maybe _that’s_ why he’s been thinking and dreaming about me all day.

“Yeah. And even better, he’s your friend. So you need to do what he says until we get this whole mess figured out.”

“I can stay here with you?” I approach the front door, and the kitten cringes. But I can smell the sweet tempting scent of his anxiety mixed arousal when I am so close. I lower my nose to his soft skin, touching it where his neck and shoulder meet. He smells so warm—so alive!

“Oy—stop!” I freeze when the kitten protests loudly. His actions don’t correspond to his feelings. It’s confusing.

“Why?” I ask, keeping my voice low but also not touching him.

“You—um, last time, you _hurt_ me.”

What is he talking about? I really don’t remember anything before last night. My earliest memory is waking up on the floor of his home, my head throbbing but my body aroused and his sweet smell surrounding me.

“I hurt you? I would never hurt you,” I say, but I’m not very confident.

“Well, you did.”

“What did I do?” I’m not sure I really want to know.

“You drank too much of my blood and I lost consciousness. I could have died.” He is glaring at me with that melting golden gaze—his eyes remind me of the sun. But I feel terrible when he says that. He has no reason to lie to me, and this would explain why he is afraid.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t lay a finger on you.” I figure if I am consistent about that he will let me stay with him. I will do anything he wants if I can stay with him.

He exchanges another confused glance with the female. I’m relieved his anger has dissipated somewhat.

“What is going on?”

“I have no idea. But I’ll get my people on it—and his, too. Just—don’t let him leave. I'll try to send over a shaman tomorrow. Here, take these. He is probably hungry. He can drink these if you don’t want him to drink from you.”

She gives the kitten a brown bag. I hear glass bottles clinking inside.

“Um, okay,” he replies nervously. “But I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

I think it’s a _very_ good idea.

“You’ll be fine. He seems to remember that he likes you. Or your scent, at least.” Mana gives a little wave before leaving the house.

“I can come in?” I ask. If it’s my house, I should be able to simply enter. But the soft little kitten doesn’t seem to want me to come in just like that.

“Listen,” he says firmly, meeting my gaze boldly again. It sends a little shiver down my spine and makes my tail bristle. That's right. Mana said I need to do as he says. “I know you need a place to stay and I am willing to let you stay here. But I need you to promise you won’t touch me—or do anything to me—without my direct permission and consent.”

I’m filled with relief that he says it’s okay for me to stay with him. More than anything, I feel like this is my home—at his side is where I belong. It feels good here.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to hurt you or make you unhappy.”

“Okay, then. Please come in.” He moves to the side and lets me enter the house. It smells even warmer inside than I remember—his delectable scent covers every inch of this room. “Um… are you hungry?”

I have to work hard not to touch him when he asks if I am hungry. I’m surprised—since I think he is still afraid to let me drink from him—and this sounds as though he is offering. Gods—if he offers himself to me… what would I give for that?

“Yes.”

“Um, let me warm one of these for you.” The kitten walks away from me, looking at me curiously. He seems to be talking about the bottles in that bag he got from the female.“Make yourself at home.”

I’m awfully disappointed when I realize he wants me to drink that stuff in the bottle. Surely, he knows I am a vampire and he has let me drink from him before. However, this is his home. And I'm to do as he says. So I settle down onto the couch, in an instant realizing he must have just been sitting here. My nostrils flare and my fangs come out again.

“It smells really nice in here. Like… summer and sunshine and a festival.” I can’t seem to stop myself from talking about his scent. Does he not realize how special he is?

“Um, I’m glad you like it.”

“What _are_ you?” I may not remember anything, but I _know_ he is not like other cats. And he certainly isn’t a vampire.

“Excuse me?” He sounds slightly offended.

“What are you? You’re not like the others. You’re not a cat.”

All at once, he ruffles up all his fur—the slim tail puffs out and his ears get even fluffier and look even bigger. And his fangs peek out over his lips, eyes blazing. I’ve made him angry, I think, and I lower my ears—but they still bristle. I can’t help feeling so aroused around him.

“Sorry. Did that hurt your feelings? Are you mad?”

“No. Look, I’m just _Konoe_. I’m _Ribika_. You _know_ me.” He sounds insistent, but I don’t remember him except last night when he sent me away.

“Konoe.” His name fits him. It sounds magic and it feels nice in my mouth. “It's a pretty name. Are we really friends?”

“Um…”

“Even though I hurt you? I don’t think I would ever do anything to hurt something like you. You’re so… special.”

I get up from the couch and take a few steps over to the kitchen, being careful not to get too close. I want to smell him a little more. And I _really_ want to touch him. But I have to do as he says, I remind myself. There’s a microwave on the counter in front of him, and I think he is pretending to watch it. It’s making a soft, whirring sound. Really, I catch his eyes glancing at me several times.

“Oh, it’s almost done,” he says nervously. I have no idea what he is talking about, _what_ is almost done. I am much more concerned about how I can make him not be afraid. I don’t like his fear, even as wonderful as it smells. It’s a strange mix with the amount of arousal I smell on him.

“You’re afraid of me,” I say, keeping my voice low.

“N-no—”

“I can _smell_ it. Your fear. It smells really good, too, but I wish you weren’t afraid of me. I wish I could... I want…” My voice trails off softly and I drop his gaze to collect myself. I’m unsure how honest I should be. So I look up to meet his gaze. “I want to touch you.”

“Well, I _don’t_ want you to touch me,” he replies in a rather bossy tone. “And you agreed to my conditions. If you do something to me, I will ask you to leave. Here’s, it’s done. It might be a little warm. This is your favorite flavor.” He opens the microwave and takes out a bottle. Huh. I wonder what it is, but I take it since he gives it to me. It must be good.

“Thank you,” I say gratefully—truly glad to have received anything from the soft, magic kitten. I take a sip from the bottle and pull my mouth back in an instant. I’ve burned my tongue! I wasn’t expecting it to be so hot. I put my free hand against my lips.

“Are you okay?

“Oh, yeah. It’s just hot. It burned my tongue.” Do I really like this stuff? It's bland and has no flavor, and it's much too hot. I think I'd very much prefer just a taste from the blonde kitten watching me.

The kitten reaches out to touch the bottle. He looks surprised.

“Are you sensitive to heat or something?”

“Yes. I have always been this way, I think. So…” Now that I have his attention and he’s not acting so shy, I press, “Will you at least sit next to me? Please? I won’t touch you.”

A soft sexy sound escapes his lips. It’s utterly enchanting. I wish I could hear more sounds like that.

“All right. We can watch TV.”

I return to the couch and sit as close as possible to the soft kitten—without actually touching him. I am restraining myself, but I really don’t understand why he is so hesitant. I know he feels desire and lust. Why wouldn’t he just indulge in it? I have to do as he says, though, so I just sit by his side and watch him switch on the TV.

“What?” He asks, his voice a little stern or annoyed.

“You smell so nice. And you have a glow about you.”

“I think that’s your fault.”

“Mine?”

“Yes. You gave me your blood.”

Did I? Oh right. That’s what he said. Even the thought of this kitten drinking from me—indulging in my blood—sends a wave of arousal through my body. My fangs bare and he flinches slightly. It’s a disappointing reaction. I'd much rather have him melt his lithe body against mine.

“You drank from me?”

“Yes, a little, and then I think you gave me an infusion. To help me recover.”

“I see. I am sorry I hurt you. Do you want…?” A little hesitant to finish my offer and unsure if I should actually offer it, I pause. But even if he doesn’t want me to drink from him doesn’t mean _he_ has to suffer. “Do you want more of my blood? If you are still hurt?”

My offer makes him sweat slightly—and that soft glow about him pulses. He’s utterly gorgeous.

“It seems like you actually want me to touch you. Are you so afraid of me—for what I did to you—that you’d deny yourself?”

He doesn’t answer.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” I insist, deliberately keeping my voice soft and my desire restrained. But he refuses.

“I’m tired. Here. Let’s close the curtains. I need to get ready for bed. You should be all right on the couch, right?” The couch is in the center of the room, but his bed is against the wall. It has much more protection since there are no windows by it.

“You don’t want me to sleep next to you?” I flatten my ears just a little. I was really hoping to sleep beside him. He looks confused and isn’t sure how to answer. I don’t understand his confusion at all since I can feel that he wants me here next to him. He _wants_ to be touched—and he wants _me_ to touch him. But he still shakes his head. What a strange little creature!

“That’s okay. I’m going to get ready to go to bed.”

He heads to the bathroom for a moment, leaving me on the couch alone. I wait patiently and he returns and to my surprise, crawls into bed while still wearing his tee-shirt and his sweats. He didn’t take off _any_ of his clothes. Worse, he looks so small and alone in that bed. It pulls at something in my heart—and this feeling is familiar.

“It’s too big for you,” I point out, watching him curling up under the sheets. I wonder if he will groom himself and if I will be able to stand it if he does. It would be utterly enchanting! “You look lonely there, all by yourself.”

A small derisive sound clicks in his mouth as he turns over in the bed, facing away from me. I can clearly see the outline of his slim and shapely body beneath the blankets. I want to _touch_ him. I want to _groom_ him. And he’s acting like I’m not even in the room with him. Sure enough, he does start grooming himself. It’s amazingly attractive. I want to feel his tongue on my body and delve into his ears. I want to lick him all over, especially when I smell how aroused he is. I wonder why he is resisting his desire like this? It isn’t long before I can’t stand it anymore. I know I said I would do as he said, but I can't do this. I climb up from the couch and move over to the bed.

“I can…” Apparently my voice and my presence have startled him—and he stops grooming his tail partway, his eyes dilated and dark. I want to groom those long lashes. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t hear you move.”

“You… your feelings—they don’t match the words coming out of your mouth. It feels like you want me next to you, though you are denying it. I will be quiet and still and I won't disturb you. I will help you with your fur and let you rest.” I pause a moment. His resistance is _ridiculous_. Plus I will likely crawl in bed beside him after he is asleep anyway. Isn’t he aware? How might I persuade him to let me lie next to him right now? “I don’t have to drink your blood. But I would love to, um…”

“What?”

“I would love to lick your body.” Apparently, his body appreciates my direct suggestion. “And I could _just_ lick you—I won’t do anything else. I will only touch you with my tongue, not my teeth…”

“No!” He replies.

The soft kitten—Konoe—he looks angry at the very suggestion. I need him to understand—I need him to know…

“I am sorry I hurt you. I promise I won’t hurt you again. Please.”

He still says nothing.

“It hurts me—feeling your yearning for me and being right here and not being able to help you. Please. Let me help you. Let me meet your desire.”

His resolve is fading—and I feel it. His desire is overwhelminghis fear. I know he must have felt pleasure the last time we touched. I know I would never do anything else than see to his utter pleasure. He is too special. So I continue.

“I promise I won’t touch you with anything else. Just my mouth. My lips and tongue. No fangs.” I wait patiently for my words to sink in. Surely he won’t deny himself for the entire night? “It’s what you want, isn’t it? Why would you deny yourself your heart’s desire when it’s right here before you? It’s painful. I just want to be close to you.”

Finally, he sits up. I am starting to feel good about this and it’s reflected in my expression. M tail seems to be waving back and forth impatiently. His soft voice sinks into my ears.

“Okay. Here are my conditions. Yes, you can sleep in my bed. Yes, you can groom my ears. Yes, you can touch me. But your clothes have to stay on.”

“What about your clothes?” I’m nothing if not practical. I won’t be able to lick all of him if he keeps his clothes on.

“Gods! My clothes are staying on, too. I’m going to sleep. I don’t want to do anything else.”

“But you will allow me to groom you?”

“Um, yes.” His magical voice is close to a whisper.

“Can I sleep next to you—close enough to touch you? Can I use my hands—just a little?”

“To _groom_ me,” he clarifies. “_Nothing_ else.”

“It will be safer for me in your bed since there are no windows here. I don’t do sunshine,” I remark happily as I crawl into his bed. I snuggle up behind him and he smells so nice—his body feels so good! “You like my scent, too, don’t you?”

“Isn’t it because you’ve given me your blood?”

“Oh—maybe it is. I don’t really know. But I do know that you smell amazing.” With that, I lower my lips to his ear and start grooming his plush white and caramel fur—softly and carefully. It feels utterly indulgent and affectionate, and tension gradually releases from his body. He feels _right_ now—like his emotions and actions are matching appropriately.

I’m not sleepy, so I continue grooming his ears, his hair, his neck, his tail, even his arms, and fingers since they are exposed. I would love to take off his clothes, I think, but I keep my promise. He said he didn’t wish me to do anything else. He just smells so nice.

As I am working through his tail again, being sure to leave plenty of my own scent mixing with his the way it should be—partway through the night, I notice his arousal has suddenly increased. When I close my eyes, I can feel his emotions—desire and lust—for _me_. He must have ingested a good deal of my blood because he is extremely aroused and it’s easy for me to tell from the state of his formerly peacefully sleeping body.

I am tempted to stroke him—even over the top of his clothes—but I don’t want him to awake to me touching him. However, as his breath picks up, I can hardly help myself. If he wants it so much, why shouldn’t I give it to him?

With claws drawn, I gently touch his erection over the fabric of his pants. I finger the outline of its hardness—imagining briefly how he would feel in my mouth, how he would taste. And quite suddenly, he releases—and it surprises me enough so I jerk my hand back to his tail. I act like I have just been grooming his tail and nothing else—noticing him waking up after his climax—and gods, I can smell the liquid and I want to lick it up so much.

“You dreamt of me,” I huff softly into his ear. I’m pleased—but he bristles and startles, turning to face me with wide eyes and a pink blush filling his ears. It quickly floods his cheeks and his throat and his neck—and the softest scent of honey drifts from him. It’s as if I can smell his blood even beneath his skin!

“You dreamt of me touching you. Making love to you. And yet you _say_ you don’t want me to touch you.”

He sighs—another one of those soft, sexy sounds—and he sounds embarrassed. He is gently hesitant and very embarrassed—almost flustered, I think—as he looks around for something to clean himself up with. That gives me a great idea.

“Let me.” Surely, he won’t deny me. It will help us both!

“Let you what?”

“May I? I will help you,” I whisper softly, pushing him onto his back and straddling his legs. Keeping my eyes glued to his pink face, I begin grooming the soft fur beneath his navel, unable to prevent a loud, contented purr from spilling from my throat. My breath picks up when I taste him—his sweat, his climax—and he is sweet and warm like summer sunshine. Suddenly, I worry he might think this is too intrusive and wonder if my touch is really unwanted. I seem unable to predict his behavior.

“Is this okay?” I confirm.

He gives a brief nod, and that soothes me.

“You taste so good… like the sunlight.”

He is aroused a second time by the time I have finished but when I look up at his face, wondering if he wants me to continue—if he wants to experience any more pleasure—I am disappointed to see his face arranged in a peaceful way, though I know he is not asleep. He is faking sleep to avoid interacting with me.

I don’t insist, though I am confused and a little heartbroken. I _know_ he felt good—I know I could make him feel even better. And his strange emotions are contradicting themselves. But again, I am here as his guest. I said I would do as he wished. Perhaps he will change his mind as the night passes. So instead, I pull him back into my arms, pressing him against my chest and try not to molest him too much for the rest of the night. I'm mostly successful, but he sure smells nice by the time I am done with him.

Just before dawn, I close my eyes and fall asleep, surrounded by his sweet scent, plush fur, and soft, relaxed body. I’m happy.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short update to this poor neglected fic.
> 
> Konoe seeks help from his friend Tokino and a shaman.

Late morning, I wake to a silent, massive figure curled around me in my bed. I turn to look—he isn’t grabbing me or holding me tight, but that soft, fluffy tail is wrapped around mine and draped over my waist. Rai looks nothing like the vampire who waltzed into the bar that first night, nothing like the frightening creature who raped me (that is what he did!), nothing like that monster who trapped me in his dungeon, fucking me and drinking from me till I lost consciousness.

This cat looks utterly innocent and vulnerable—soft and relaxed, even. I’m so confused. And I am flooded with guilt.

I know the flash of light and song that spilled from my body—only while protecting myself from the vampire now sound asleep in my bed—is responsible for his current condition. I wonder—a part of me wonders—if this is the real Rai. Is this what he was like when he was first turned so many centuries ago?

What was that light? Perhaps I should see the shaman today. I’m nervous about leaving the vampire here alone, though. I climb out of bed, gently slipping my tail out from his, and bathe myself, considering my options.

My skin smells like sweet summer rain. Everything I allowed last night—that grooming and licking and... well, devouring—comes flooding back at once, flushing my cheeks and ears.

Gods. I’m never going to be normal again. Maybe I _should_ let him turn me? I wouldn’t mind being bound to the creature who was so gentle with me last night...

_Shit_! What am I even thinking?

After showering, getting dressed, and grabbing a bite to eat, I notice the time is nearly noon. Even if Tokino is working at Bardo's today, his shift won’t start till later. He should be at his father’s place of business—the merchant store. So I pull on my shoes and get ready to leave. Before I go, I grab a stapler from my small desk. I staple the drapes to the wall, blocking out all the sunlight, just in case Rai wakes up and wanders around my house. He should be safe here. I plan to return well before dusk.

I lock the door—the deadbolt and the regular knob—and head over to my friend’s day job. I try not to think too much about Rai and how wonderful he feels next to me on the way.

* * *

“You actually _quit_?” Tokino is bewildered. “Konoe, how the hell are you going to pay your bills?”

“I had to. Something came up—with Bardo.”

“It’s because you’ve been seeing the vampire, isn’t it?”

My fur bristles fully and I meet his gaze with shock.

“How do you—?”

“Konoe, you’re my oldest friend. I’m not stupid. He’s been stalking your section for _months_. I saw him watching you—and I saw your attraction to him.” Tokino leans in closer to me and a small knowing smile creeps across his lips. “Oh! You finally lost your virginity?!”

“Tokino—”

“You _did_! And not just with any vampire. To the sheriff. Holy shit—I was tempted when I saw him—hell, I consider any vampire who stops in for a drink. It’s supposed to be _fantastic_.” He takes a break and searches me up and down. “You look fine, too. How was it?”

I sigh, averting my eyes and willing the blush in my cheeks to fade.

“That’s none of your business.”

“So it was _that_ good?!”

I click my tongue and meet his gaze.

“Look, I need your help.”

“You know, Konoe, vampires can’t procreate the way cats can. I know you’re a little naive, but don’t worry. There’s no _way_ you’re pregnant.”

Fucking asshole. He’s my best friend—my only friend, really—and he knows exactly how to push my buttons. The little smirk playing at his lips lets me know he is teasing me on purpose.

“Something’s happened to him and I need to see a shaman.”

“Is he okay?”

Taking a few minutes to consider my answer, I hum softly.

“Not really. But I think he will be. I just need to see the shaman. Do you know where he lives? If he’s still living?”

Tokino nods.

“Yeah. He’s out in the woods in a small shrine. You take the southeast trail outside the city. It’s a little shrine built into the rocks. It’s not a well-traveled path, but from what I understand, he should still be there.”

“Thanks,” I say, relief filling my body.

“Look,” Tokino says, touching my arm before I can get going. “You _are_ safe, aren’t you? I mean, the news always goes on and on about how vampires can take over your thoughts and brainwash you into staying with them, even if all they do is drink your blood—”

“I’m fine,” I insist. I don’t want to drag Tokino into any of this or expose him to the trauma I suffered when Rai first touched me. “Thanks for your concern. And your help.”

“You’ll tell me if you need anything?”

“Yeah. And um, try not to be alone with the old man too much,” I murmur.

“Bardo?”

I nod.

“Gods. He sexually harassed you, didn’t he?”

Unsure of how to answer that question, I don’t say anything. But I avert my eyes. If Tokino thinks that’s why I quit, it’s all right. It will keep him on his toes.

“Okay. If you need someone to talk to, I’m always here.”

I smile at my best friend, then head out, flicking my tail in farewell.

* * *

Facing the entrance of a small shrine—an older, faded red pagoda out front—I gather my courage and head into the darkness. At the end of the tunnel, a soft light flickers, most likely fire. Not my favorite, but it would be ridiculous if this shrine had any sort of electricity. Only the city has electricity. It would suck to live here, I think.

Squaring my shoulders, I head toward the light and turn the corner, finding myself face-to-face with a middle-aged cat with short silver hair, wearing robes, and a partial face mask. His green eyes flash with familiarity, which I immediately find suspicious.

“Ah. You’ve found me.” His voice is soft but a little gravely. There is something familiar about him, though I can’t place him.

“My name is Konoe,” I start.

“I know, Konoe. I suspected you might visit me soon.”

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I gather my wits and take a breath. I’m no idiot. I know as well as anyone that these medicine men use tricks to manipulate their customers. I won’t fall for it.

“Let me guess. You saw it in the stars.”

“Indeed,” he says, a slight smile resting on his lips. “Your existence is quite a surprise. You’ve lived in the city for some years, yes?”

I nod.

“Hailing from Karou, originally?”

My ears flatten. I’m unnerved by this detail. Maybe we have met before and I don’t remember? The alternative is that he has been stalking me.

“And you’re here about your blood?”

Now I’m completely unnerved.

“How did you know that?”

“The stars, of course,” he says, his eyes twinkling mischievously in the dim light. “What would you like to know?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I would like to know about something that happened last night.”

“Sounds sordid,” he purrs, his eyes raking up and down my body. I can’t be sure, but it sure looks like he has seen me naked before. “I take it you’ve recovered well? Perhaps you are suffering the side effects of the treatment?”

“Treatment?”

“The infusion. Your silver vampire’s infusion.”

How the hell would he know about that?

“I do occasional work for the sheriff,” he clarifies. “No need to get upset. How is the silver vampire these days?”

“He is... not himself.”

“I would suppose not.”

“Why?”

“Well, _you_, for one. He consumed entirely too much of your blood. You both ought to be careful.”

How much blood Rai took from me was never anything I could control. The shaman's words are useless.

“It actually—um, something happened.”

“Ho?” The silver cat sidles up to me and touches my chin. The sudden touch startles me, and I bristle all my fur. “Tell me.”

“He was at my house and wouldn’t leave. I was afraid—and something... well, a light and song came out of my body.”

“Ah. Your true nature.” The words are spoken as though they are the most natural things in the world.

“Which is?”

“Ho? You don’t know of your heritage? I’m sure the sheriff is well aware. I’d bet most vampires in the city suspect, too.”

“What about it?” I ask, a little grumpy now. "Does something make me special to vampires?"

“Tsk, tsk. So impatient. I receive so few visitors these days and even fewer magical visitors. Let me enjoy the moment, insolent little brat.”

I flatten my ears at the scolding.

“I apologize. It’s just—I need to be home before dusk.”

“You certainly do.”

“I don’t understand what this heritage thing is all about. There’s nothing special about my family. I never even met my father.”

“I see." After a short but annoying pause, the shaman continues. "Has it occurred to you that what you’ve been hearing from those around you might be true?”

“Which is?”

“You have sunshine in your blood, kitten. You are part fae. And a large part fae. Your father was most likely the king of the fae, and his royal blood runs in your veins.”

“Royal blood?” I can’t believe my ears.

“Ancient magic. It offers power, protection, and healing through song and light. You smell irresistible to vampires.”

“So what? I’m prime prey?”

“Actually, not at all. Your scent, your blood, the ability to draw vampires out of the woodwork to you, that actually works in your favor. The older the vampire, the more attractive your scent. And the more power you hold over them.”

“I have no power over vampires!” I snap. “The one—the sheriff—I had no control over his actions! He completely overpowered me!” I am a little surprised by my admission. I haven’t spoken to anyone about that terrifying first sexual encounter.

“Your assumptions are incorrect. Your soul—and the blood in your veins—is what attracted your prey to you.”

“What?”

“_You_ are the predator, in this case, kitten.”

“What?” I am flabbergasted.

“As fae, you have the power to rule over vampires. If you allow it to happen, your role on this earth will change far and wide. The sheriff’s body can probably tell—but you appear to him as an irresistible, sexy morsel. That is your allure and part of your attack.”

“I did not attack him!”

“But he helped himself to you, did he not?”

I don’t reply. Obviously, he knows this is true.

“He couldn’t resist you. Perhaps he thought he could—for a little while. A few months at the most. It was wise of you to choose the most powerful of them, kitten. Since all others will leave you unharmed now that the two of you are attached.”

“I didn’t choose him!”

“Perhaps because you have not yet made the change,” the shaman says, keeping his voice level and even. “Once your true form makes itself known, you will see.”

“What will I see?”

He sighs, slightly exasperated.

“So impatient. What is the fun in spilling the surprise? Life is so special and precious because wonderful things happen without our knowledge.”

“I don’t understand!” I’m utterly frustrated.

“Little fae,” the shaman begins patiently. “Let me tell you why you are here right now. You have the most powerful vampire at your feet—begging you for touch and connection. Perhaps he has reverted to his original self—perhaps his memories are missing?”

I’m stunned again. How would he even know that?

“Indeed,” he chuckles. “You only need to wait for the season to begin and the transformation will be complete.”

“I don’t want to become a vampire,” I say stubbornly. “I won’t be his slave.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry. Your kind can never be turned. It is believed that half-blood fae born of royalty have the strongest power—stronger even than the king of fae himself. You cannot be turned.”

A sliver of relief seeps into my heart at his words.

“However, because you are so tempting to vampires, they may still try to turn you. I’d guess that once the season begins—” he glances at a strange-looking chart hung on the wall, “which should be within the next few days, you will see exactly what happens when fae and vampire blood mix.”

“What will happen?”

“Oh, I couldn’t tell you. It’s taboo, first of all, since I would be interfering with fate.”

“This isn’t any help!” I exclaim.

The shaman only laughs again.

“Have no fear. Your song will truly shake the world.”

I stand waiting patiently, hoping he will say more, but he seems to be finished. I’m utterly frustrated.

“Fae kitten, you should head home to your vampire while it’s still light.” He reaches out and touches his fingers to my cheek. “Know that your existence has been foretold for centuries. I’m thrilled to have had the pleasure of treating you myself.”

I shrink back from his touch—which was weirdly electrical—and turn on my heel, back the way I came. I’m more frustrated than ever—and frightened—but I don’t know what else to do. I can only head back home, where that silver vampire is waiting for me. I wonder if he will be the sweet, docile creature from last night or if his memories and the cruel, sadistic streak will return.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe returns home to a worried vampire.
> 
> They do a little relationship negotiation in this chapter, and Rai is quite direct. Konoe starts to notice some unsettling changes within himself.

I hear him pacing before I even get the door open. Thankfully, it’s barely dusk—the moon of light has set—so I’m not worried about the vampire's safety. And since when am I so worried about him anyway?

“You’re back!” Rai says, sounding uncharacteristically young. He sounds like a child—and it gets even worse. “I thought you’d left. For good.”

“This is my house,” I point out, very well knowing that isn’t entirely true. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I was just worried when I woke up and you were gone.” Rai looks around a little, refusing to meet my eyes. Is that an actual pout on his lips? He’s fucking _pouting_? I don’t believe this—but I can’t suppress my smile.

“You must be hungry,” I say, walking to the kitchen.

The vampire follows me very closely—suddenly looming behind me and startling me. I can’t help flinching—I’m afraid he might bite me.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” he says immediately, looking ashamed. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought you were, um, _offering_.”

“I was,” I explain. “But I’m offering you True Blood.”

A small whining protest emanates from the large cat in my kitchen. Again, I cannot fathom Rai—the thousand-year-old vampire and sheriff—making that sound. He sounds like a sulky toddler. I’m not sure how to respond, but I pop off the bottle cap and microwave it, waiting patiently and keeping my eye on Rai. Or whatever this creature is.

He is acting strangely—just as the shaman said. But did I _choose_ him somehow? I cannot deny that I was (and am) fiercely attracted to this gorgeous creature. I’m utterly ashamed to admit it, but even that first, very painful time in the woods—_when he raped me_—it’s become part of my fantasy life now. Am I a masochist? Do I think so low of myself that I believe I deserved to be treated like that? The subsequent times never seemed to involve my consent, either. A shudder courses down my spine when I think of them.

The chime of the microwave dings, saving me from my distracting thoughts, and I pass the warm bottle to Rai.

“It’s hot,” I warn him.

“Thank you,” he says, but he slumps in the doorway just watching me make my dinner. I have prepared meals, after all. I pop a container in the microwave and warm it up.

“You can sit down. I’ll be in when it’s done.” It feels like I am ordering the vampire around. Yes, it’s my house. But never in a million years would I have thought this could happen.

“I’ll wait.”

My house is very small—he can see me from the couch, of course.He seems to be waiting for my meal to finish cooking or else for his bottle to cool. So I’m a little intimidated by his presence at the counter. Well, that’s not quite right. I think I _should_ be intimidated, but the words of the shaman keep echoing in my head.

I’m a predator? Did I choose Rai? There’s magic in my veins?

None of it makes sense—but Rai certainly doesn’t, either. Once the microwave beeps, I take the container out and grab a fork, walking past the silver cat to the couch. I put my feet up on the coffee table, my dinner in my lap, watching Rai make his way over to me. I don’t do my best thinking on an empty stomach, after all.

He sits down right next to me—close enough for our thighs to touch. He puts the True Blood on the table and leans back on the couch. Then, I catch him stretching his arms overhead, one arm reaching out for the bottle, and the other not-so-subtly curving around my shoulder. I think about being annoyed—since I’m trying to eat—but then I meet his gaze. He looks... soft.

“I missed you,” he purrs softly, watching me eat my dinner as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. “You taste so good—like nothing I’ve ever tasted.”

“You drank too much of me. You’ve tasted me more times than I allowed,” I remind him.

He shakes his head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were special—and I don’t remember that. I’d never do that if you didn’t want it. But your flavor...”

I shift uncomfortably on the sofa. _This_ version of Rai hasn’t tasted my blood. I am well aware. I _know_ what he is talking about.

“You taste like the best blood-sugar-sex-magic I could ever imagine,” he says with a soft sigh. “I slept better than I ever have before. Can I stay with you?”

“You may not drink my blood. We agreed to that.”

“I know. I don’t have to drink your blood,” Rai says, sort of shyly. “I could, um, drink _other_ things.”

My cheeks flush and Rai’s eyes dilate round and huge. I forgot that he can smell the blood under my skin, and this is a familiar reaction to my excessive blushing. But he looks surprised.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? You do that a lot.”

“It’s—ugh. Nothing,” I say.

“You’re angry with me?”

“No—”

“Don’t be angry with me,” Rai says, a purr covering the space between us. “You’re too special to me.” His eyes look so earnest and something pulls deep in my chest. The longer I sit here and look at him, the harder that soft pull becomes. Soon, it feels like an animal deep inside my heart that wants to devour him.

What is this feeling? I shift uncomfortably again and look away, ignoring the tightness in my jeans. Gods, I’m aroused! What is wrong with me?

“You smell different than yesterday,” Rai says—direct as ever. I’m not sure if I should be offended, and so he adds, “Blood-sugar-sex-magic.” Whatever the fuck that is.

“I don’t want you to drink from me,” I insist.

Rai’s gaze lands directly on my crotch. I know the former version of Rai could smell my arousal the same way he could smell my blushing embarrassment. This version can do the same.

“You smell nice.”

I just hum and try to eat my dinner, shifting around in my seat and ignoring that frightening primal urge inside me. A few minutes pass with him watching me and taking small sips from the bottle, and me eating, trying to ignore his stare.

If I think about it—even for a second—it feels like an ancient monster inside my chest is clawing its way out. It’s nothing I’m familiar with, really, nothing I’ve ever felt before. Yet each time I look at the silver vampire, it rears its head. It feels uncomfortable and disturbing.

“You know,” Rai starts, and then he stops. He just sits, sipping his dinner, waiting for me to finish. I set my dishes down on the coffee table and lean back, meeting his gaze directly. “You know, I understand that you wouldn’t want me to touch you if I hurt you.” He lets his claws glide through the hair at my nape, caressing my shoulders gently. “I apologize—and I’m sorry I’m making you uncomfortable now. But I think I can ease your discomfort.”

“Rai...”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I already told you, you may not drink from me.”

Rai shakes his head.

“This is another idea.” He seems almost nervous, but very determined. “I don’t have to have your blood.”

“I _know_ you don’t. You have the synthetic stuff, right there in your hand!”

“No, I just, um, I meant... if you wanted to _feel_ better, I could help.”

A little shiver starts at my shoulder—right under his fingers. But this is different than anything I’ve felt before. I know it feels good—hypnotic, enticing, amazing—to have him drink my blood. It feels even better to drink his. But neither of those things is on the table right now, as much as my erection begs to differ.

“I mean—like last night? You didn’t hate that, did you?” Rai asks.

_Ugh_—I’m frustrated. I shift my body around and turn to face him fully.

“Look. Rai, I know you can smell my blood and my, um, arousal. But I am telling you, I’m _scared_ of you.”

My words sound much harsher than I anticipate—and I don’t even realize it until I see the hopeful expression on his beautiful face fall. It sends a flash of guilt (and hunger) through my chest. _Hunger_? What? I don’t understand!

“I don’t mean I’m actually frightened of you,” I clarify. I tug my hair with my fingers, and he stops me.

“Don’t. I like your hair.”

I shake my head and move his hands.

“Rai, you’re very different than you were two days ago. When you hurt me.”

“You could stop me. From hurting you. From moving.”

“What do you mean?”

“Silver. Use silver. Or really, if you tie me up with anything else, I promise I will stay. I won’t break the bonds.”

A shiver of desire floods my hips with his suggestion.

“Bondage? You want me to tie you up?”

Rai nods eagerly.

“Wouldn’t that help? You wouldn’t have to worry about me moving unexpectedly or touching you in a way that would hurt you.”

“Honestly, it would, but not in _everything_. I mean—if we do what you’re suggesting—”

“I don’t think you understand. Little fae, I don’t need your _blood_ to get the effects from it.”

“Right, I saw that last night.” Plus, I remember Rai loved the taste of my sweat nearly as much as my blood. He said so. “You’ve told me as much.”

“But—also, you could use a more _direct_ method. I don’t have to use my mouth.”

“What?” And then my brain ceases to function. But even as I raise my hand to stop anything else—any other brilliant ideas—from flowing from those plush, irresistible lips, Rai is speaking again.

“You could fuck me. Tie me down and fuck me.” His words are spoken so naturally, just like he might be asking me to attend a dinner function.

I am utterly speechless.

“If any of your blood-sugar-sex-magic gets inside me, I will enjoy the effects. And I think you may enjoy the effects just as much. And you will feel safe. And comfortable. And I will make you lose your _mind_.”

“Rai...”

My heart is throbbing so loud in my ears now that all I can hear is the whooshing of blood surging through my veins. Rai stands up, watching my flustered self, and ignoring my confusing mix of desire and confusion. He gets up from the couch only to kneel before me, taking my hands in both of his. He looks up at me under long, pale lashes, his pale blue eyes shimmering like the magic creature he is and _begs_.

“Please. I will make you feel better than you ever have. You won’t have to drink my blood unless you want it. I won’t bite you. I won’t touch you if you tie me up. Just, please. I _need_ this. I _crave_ this. I crave _you_.”

Shit.

I know for sure that I am the reason that he is the way he is. I’m pretty sure after that sappy little speech, I might have decided that I like this version of Rai better than the other, frightening one. But still. It’s _my_ responsibility. And didn’t the shaman say something about my true form?

“Do you know what I am?” I ask.

“You are part fae—and a powerful part fae.”

“I don’t know what I am,” I admit.

“Fae are ancient creatures—as old as the earth. They rarely breed with humans anymore, but when they do, the half-breeds are strong and live immortal lives. More than anything—your presence _captivates_ me as a vampire. I don’t understand why, but I’m drawn to you. I nearly went out in the sun today to find you, to seek you out. I would have searched for you if you hadn’t returned.”

Huh. Well, this does sound a lot like what the shaman said. But what about me being a predator?

“You aren’t afraid of me?” I ask.

“I trust you. And I understand that I hurt you—even if I don’t remember it. I can’t think of why I would ever have touched you in a way to injure you. I look at you now and all I want is to touch, taste, _feel_.”

I stop him right there—I don’t want to hear about blood-sugar-sex-magic anymore.

“You don’t remember me from the bar?”

“What bar?”

“You stalked me for months. Before you attacked me.”

Rai lowers his gaze, ashamed, but stays on his knees.

“I don’t remember. But more than anything—I want your forgiveness. _Forgive_ _me_. I don’t know what came over me—but truly. I don’t wish you any harm. I want to... hold you. I want to kiss you. I want to lick you—”

“You want to _bite_ me,” I snap.

“I do, but I won’t and will never if you do not permit it. Please. Forgive me. Let me earn my forgiveness.”

“Earn my forgiveness?”

“Yes. Tie me up to your bed. Use silver to keep me in place. Or belts. Or rope. I don’t care. Then—fuck me. Till you are satisfied. You will never feel better.”

This is utterly unbelievable. And I feel the urge (and resist it strongly) to fan the air around my face. I’m so warm. And the more he speaks in that low, captivating tone, the more than vicious animal inside me is riled up. I can almost hear it speaking.

_Tie him down. Devour him. Fuck him. Make him fall to pieces. Consume him. He desires you. He wants to know you. He wants to become one with you._

The fuck is all this?!

“Rai—I can’t.”

He looks so sad and depressed.

“I _want_ to forgive you, I do. And I don’t, um, dislike it when you touch me. It’s just—there’s so much history between us—”

“Overwrite that history. Make a _new_ history. Let’s start fresh.”

For the first time in my young life, I’m considering recruiting help from another vampire. Mana would answer if I called, but whether she would help me or simply do everything possible to help Rai is another question. Bardo is another option—but I left on such a bad note. And I’d have to drag Rai to the bar with me.

Shit. What should I do?

And oh my gods, where are my thoughts wandering?

Bright, vivid images pour into my head—and at first, I’m sure this must be Rai’s doing. But my chest is vibrating strangely as if that magic creature inside me is responsible. But I can’t even think about that now—since the images are so explicit. I look up toward my bed, and a dreamy glow appears around my room, overlapping the space with a sheer layer.

In this layer, on my bed, I see the completely nude form of the silver vampire, stretched out from my headboard, both wrists attached to the bar with a silver chain. He’s glimmering with sweat—if vampires sweat—as far as I have been able to tell, their sweat is just some strange aphrodisiac effect on Ribika. His hair is splayed over my pillows—on my blankets—and he’s aroused. Even his nipples are hard and pink. And gods—his erection is _impossible_.

I lick my lips at the vision—even though I know it isn’t there. I want that thing inside me—but that isn’t what Rai has suggested. And the vision Rai bends his knees, dragging his ankles up along the sheets, and spreads his thighs.

My heart gives a lurch—a monstrous, _painful_ lurch, and I gasp in response. There is a part of me that wants to fuck the sense from this silver vampire sitting next to me, asking me so sweetly. But the lust is intertwined with feelings of power and control and the urge to... _devour_ him.

“I _can’t_. We can’t—not yet. I don’t think I should—um, I’m not...” My voice trails off and I notice even more concern flitting across Rai’s expression. My vision goes dark around the edges, and I hear that voice (my vampire’s voice) calling my name.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe wakes up in the Faewild where he meets his father. Shui makes an attempt to explain the situation (and Konoe’s role) to his beloved son, leaving Konoe even more confused.

My consciousness returns all at once in a flash. When I open my eyes, I’m confused. I don’t recognize the space around me. A soft, golden hue fills my eyes first, and the scent of damp, summery meadows and honey flood my nose. A pleasant vibration reverberates something deep within my body and fills my ears. I even have a sweet taste in my mouth when I sit up, finding myself lying in the leaves and grass. The fauna seems to curl itself around my body in a way that feels gentle.

“Slowly, my son. Sit up slowly. You’re surely disoriented.”

The gentle voice I’ve never heard before sends shivers down my back. I turn toward its source and I see a cat—at least, he’s _mostly_ a cat—before me. He has waist-length, red hair, sharp emerald green eyes, ears the same size and shape as mine, caramel tipped with white. His tail swishes back and forth behind him—and he has wings. They look iridescent and transparent, like those of a dragonfly, only they spread out nearly six feet in either direction. They flutter quickly—like those of an insect—but the sound feels familiar.

This place—the smell, the soft warm hues of the forest I’m in, the sound of birds I don’t recognize—lifts my heart. It feels like _home_. I’m sure I’ve never been here before, but there’s a part of my soul that recognizes this realm as part of me.

“I’ve waited many years to meet you again, my child. I’m pleased you were able to find me so easily.”

The winged cat is still speaking to me. His voice is like the softest lullaby—something inside my heart remembers and floats when I hear it.

“Who...?”

“Hush. Don’t try to speak. You’re confused. You haven’t been in the land of the fae for many years. Your mother only let me bring you once when you were a baby, after all.”

The stranger reaches out and drags his claws through my fur. The touch is wonderful and full of comfort, and it sends a vibration of pleasure and relaxation through my body.

“My name is Shui. I’m the king of the fae. And I am your father. This—” he gestures around with his fingers before continuing. “This is the Faewild. It is the realm of the fae—and only those with fairy blood can enter. You are safe here, and you will always have a second home here, even if you fit in the apparent realm more easily. You were born to rule that realm as well as this one.”

He pulls me up to sit and I stare at him—bewildered. I suppose part of me resembles him, maybe his cheeks and the shape of his nose. However, he doesn’t look much like me, aside from his fur and the shape of his ears. The color of his fur like mine, only reversed. I'm unsure of whether to stare at him or the lush, surrounding forest that feels more like a jungle than the fir trees at home.

“You have grown into a gorgeous young cat, Konoe. I heard you asking questions, seeking out your origins. I’m here to answer what I can.”

“You—you’re my dad?” I ask, perplexed. It would fit, according to what I’ve learned from the shaman, anyway. People keep telling me I’m half fae.

The auburn-haired cat, Shui, nods his head.

“It is the role of this era’s fae king to sire his heir outside of the Faewild. Hence, your mother is a mortal Ribika. You, therefore, are the strongest of both worlds, meant to rule over both.”

I scoff—rudely and aloud, much to my embarrassment.

“What is it?” Shui asks. “You do not believe me?”

“If you’d seen what I’ve been going through lately, _you_ wouldn’t believe you either.”

“Ah. Are you speaking of the vampire sheriff you’ve so enchanted?” Shui takes a seat in the grass next to me, crossing his legs and lowering himself down as though this is his throne. The leaves on the forest floor reshape around him magically, forming a soft chair which cradles his body. I even hear a soft sigh from the leaves, as if they are grateful for his presence. “He was an excellent choice—even if you did perhaps choose him a bit early.”

“I didn’t _choose_ him! If you’d been able to see for yourself, you’d understand! He _stalked_ me—for months—and he...” I am unable to finish the sentence, looking away in shame. I’ve barely even met this person and I certainly don’t think of him as family. I am _not_ going to tell him about the recent attacks on my person, regardless of who he claims to be.

“I _can_ see for myself. Look.”

Shui motions slightly with fingers, gesturing at a small puddle of water at his feet. It grows a little bigger when the fae king's fingers float over the surface. Like the leaves underneath his body, the water shivers with delight in his presence.

“We use water for scrying—those of us with enough power, that is. Watch.”

He wiggles his fingers over the small puddle, and the reflection ripples and changes into something that looks like Bardo’s bar. It's like the shadow of a reflection, but I see people moving around, including Tokino serving guests.

“What?” I am amazed—and then angry. “You _did_ see? You _saw_ what he did to me? And you _let_ it happen?!”

“As I said, you claimed him earlier than you should have to have an all-pleasant connection,” Shui says lightly. “It's been many years since we had such a powerful hybrid in our midst. There was no way to tell when you'd come into your fae blood, though I guessed it would be when you met your mate. It would have been more comfortable for you if you’d waited till the mating season—”

“_Comfortable_?! What the hell?! You saw what was happening to me and did _nothing_?! Wait—did you _watch_?! In the forest? In his fucking dungeon?!”

“Calm down, kitten. It’s not as bad as you think.”

“Not as bad?! What the _fuck_?!” I cannot get myself under control. “Why the _hell_ didn’t you help me?! And you call yourself my father!?”

“It isn’t my place to interfere with your mating process. It’s _yours_ to choose and yours alone.”

“I _didn’t_ choose! You must have seen I was taken against my will!”

“Perhaps—from your mortal mind’s perspective. But your body and soul and heart _called_ to this vampire. His heart obeyed your soul's desire—he had no choice—and he is _yours_. And he is the best choice for you. A union with him will grant you the most power. I was afraid you’d fall for the owner of the bar where you work.”

“You knew _he_ was a vampire, too?” I am frustrated beyond belief. I can’t stand it! “How could you have watched all of that—all of this interaction—and _not_ interfere!? He _hurt_ me!”

“Perhaps—but it was a necessary and temporary pain. It often happens this way to our kind.”

“What? That vampires _rape_ the fae? Take whatever they want? Drain me dry?!”

“Child. _Please_. Gather your wits and calm yourself. I am the king of the Faewild, and you are disrespectful in your anger.” Shui lowers his voice a little, his green eyes sparkling.

“Calm?! You want me calm?! Why didn’t you _help_ me?!”

“As I said, it was _not_ my place. I cannot leave this realm without assistance, you see, as I am pureblood fae. I can only watch and observe. I have a messenger system I can use—the stars—and I _did_ use it to contact several mortals on the other side. You've met the shaman twice now. He came to you at the silver vampire's home because I asked him to. But I couldn’t help you directly. Even if I could, I _wouldn’t_ have. You made the correct choice.”

“I didn’t _make_ a choice!”

“Perhaps you don’t realize it yet, but you did indeed choose the silver vampire. Your fae chose him. And it’s the best match for you, the most helpful for our kingdom.”

“He’s _not_ a match! I... I _hate_ him! He _hurt_ me!”

“Ah, so there we see another glimpse of the mortal part of you. It must be so confusing for you, child. Your mind thinks you _should_ hate him. But you don’t. Not really. If you _did_ hate him, you’d let him greet the sunrise. You hold that power over him, now that you've decimated his mind and he lives in your home. Instead, you stapled the curtains closed to _protect_ him. Admit it. You’re _infatuated_ with him. I saw how you allowed him to handle you last night, despite any fear your mortal mind is telling you to have.”

My ears flush with heat. I'm ashamed to think that _anyone_—let alone a fae king who calls himself my father—has seen what Rai and I do when we are alone.

“Just how much have you seen?” I’m unable to hide the disgust from my voice.

“Only as much as any fae parent would require. I _know_ he’s your life mate. The fae mate for life, even if vampires do not. He’s your lifeline, kitten. He will nourish you as you age, grant you immortality with his blood. You have marked him now and he will never leave you.”

“I don’t _want_ that! I just want to live a normal life!”

“You know that isn’t true, nor is it possible,” Shui says, touching my cheek with the back of his fingers. "It's your destiny to fulfill your purpose for your people. We are _starving_ here. We lack the power to leave the wild to hunt magical creatures in the apparent realm. _You_, however, have the power to cross worlds and open the portal once again. _You_ are the savior of the fae, kitten." He smiles at me. It's a warm gaze, a fond gaze, and one that tells me he has been watching me for a very long time. It's unnerving. "Have no fear, kitten. You are designed to fulfill your purpose, after all. Your life will be filled with love and enchantment."

"I just want a normal life," I say, my voice softer now. His words frighten me.

"But we _need_ you. The fae needs you. After you complete your bond—after the mating season—you will have the power to unlock the door between our worlds. You will allow the fae to come and ago, as they did in times past."

I don't want this responsibility. But at the same time, it's interesting to hear that I may have a greater purpose. This is a weird dream, I have to say. _None_ of this can be real.

“But it _is_ real, Konoe. It's why you were born. Why I sought out your mother as the bearer of my child. Why I left my bonded mate for a time." My cheeks are brushed again by soft fingers. "Ah—your skin feels as enchanting as it looks. You, my dear, are designed to be the ultimate temptation to their kind. And that gives you the choice of partner.”

“I don’t _want_ him as a partner!”

“You’ve already chosen him, kitten. Your instinct chose the strongest vampire, waited for him to appear, discovered the best way to lure him to you. Even if you did decide to explore other options, no other creature will satisfy you as he does. No one will taste as sweet. You need his blood to survive as much as he needs yours. And he _certainly_ needs yours. I see you, trying to feed him bottles of synthetic blood. Be careful of that. He will go insane if you continue to withhold from him. And if you abandon him, you will lose him to his insanity. He will stop feeding and he will starve. He craves only you.”

“What? What are you talking about?” The idea of being a predator forms in the back of mind, despite my urge to push it away. “I had no choice in any of this!”

“Your mind was left out of the decision. That is the part of you that is most... Ribika. Most _mortal_. Your fae soul and heart, well, they chose him the first time you laid eyes on him. You knew what he was, didn’t you? Did you feel inexplicably drawn to him? You still feel drawn to him to the point of helplessness. You cannot say no to him, even as your mortal mind confounds you with fear.”

I don’t reply. It’s true. Even when I’m not in his presence, I want the silver cat. I am craving his blood (and other parts of him) even now.

“He is waiting for you. Your bond won’t solidify till you enter rut. But in the meantime, take advantage of his kind offer. It should offer you a new experience and help build trust between you.” He touches my chin softly. “You’re so new at this. Relax and enjoy it. _Indulge_ yourself. Being fae is a wonderful thing. And we’ve waited for you to come into blossom for so many years. Your presence will change the world as you know it.”

“I don’t understand—”

“And you won’t understand until _after_ the mating season. Relax, kitten. My son, your body was made to enjoy consuming his kind. You will eventually develop a symbiotic relationship. But until you establish the correct balance, things may feel one-sided. At least, until your mind catches up with your heart and soul, that is.”

“What do you mean—?”

“Hush, kitten. He is waiting for you. Close your eyes and I will send you home. Into the arms of your chosen partner. Know that you have chosen well. He will do anything you ask. And yes, your first season together may be a struggle—but you will know once you settle into your predetermined roles. I dare say, he is destined for you, and you for him.”

"But did I _do_ this to him? Did I injure him? Will he ever go back to the vampire he was before?"

"Hush, my child. Don't worry so. Trust your body's instinct and your heart's desire."

Shui sweeps his fingers over my eyes and I close them. Soon after, I feel a strange jolt, as if my mind has been squeezed tight and strained through a single point in the universe.

I startle awake—only to find myself in my own house. The gorgeous silver vampire is hovering over me, my chin in his hand, a look of relief on his face when I meet his gaze. Confusion fills my mind. I realize meeting the fae king did _nothing_ to answer my questions. I'm even more frustrated than I was before! But then... something wonderful fills my nose. It's the cool smell of rain in the forest, and silver silky hair brushes my neck and face.

“You’re awake. What happened, kitten? I was so worried...”


End file.
